Moratorium
by Darkpetal16
Summary: Harry Potter was never a good little child. Harry Potter learned the hard way early on, that the good only won in stories and fairy tales, and so to adapt, Harry Potter chose not to be such a good little girl anymore. !Gray Harry !Dark Harry !Manipulative Harry Fem!Harry F!Harry
1. Sorcerer's Stone

_**Disclaimer: **__Harry Potter and such belong to the lovely Rowling._

_**Warning: **__Implied remarks, less than morally-acceptable thoughts, etc, etc._

_**Beta: **shanagi95__  
_

_**Summary:**__ Harry Potter was never a good little child. Harry Potter learned the hard way early on, that the good only won in stories and fairy tales, and so to adapt, Harry Potter chose not to be such a good little girl anymore. This is her story. Year One, at Hogwarts. !Gray Harry !Manipulative Harry !FHarry !Dark Harry_

* * *

**(****◡‿◡****)**

* * *

Harry Potter was never really a good little girl. When she was five years old, she made this astonishing revelation with herself and accepted it with ease. Once upon a time there might have been a chance that she would have struggled to gain the acceptance and love of her guardians and peers, but that once upon a time never came in reality.

For she had come to realize that good girls never won.

When she was but a toddler she was well-behaved (for the most part—at least better behaved than that pig of a cousin of hers), but instead of at least a _smidgeon_ of recognition, all attention was pointed on the _not nice _cousin who was a _majorly petulant child_.

Her cousin was not a good little boy—he was a bad little boy, but he always seemed to win.

With this startling revelation, she concluded that the good guys only won in the stories and fantasies. But this was reality; something of which she had come to realize a long time ago. There was no room for dreams and wishes here. There were goals and there were means.

Dudley might not have been the brightest crayon in the box, but he was bright enough to realize what he had and how to milk it for all its worth.

So, because the bad little boy always seemed to win, Harry Potter gave up trying to be the good little girl she knew she never could be. Instead, she was adamant about being the bad little girl.

But of course not in a way to get her in _too _much trouble. She had to be careful. She had to be patient. She had to be cunning. If she was caught in something too horrendous, she might lose her living space—however terrible and small it was, it _was_ all she had. For the moment she was stranded there and had to work within her boundaries.

So she did the only thing any bad little girl could do without getting caught.

She learned.

If she was going to be a bad little girl, she was going to do it _right_.

She read every classic literature that held a capable antagonist—be they male or female—and studied their actions, mistakes, and ideas. She read every history report pertaining to underground bosses i.e., Al Capone was a favorite.

She studied from books and experienced how to persuade and subtly manipulate those around her. She learned how to cool her features and bring a warm and polite smile to her face that would have the neighbors doting on her. She knew how to be patient.

And as a patient little girl, she knew an opportunity would arise for her.

And when it did, it came in the form of a letter, gliding through the slot on the door for mail.

While the Dursleys were having a merry breakfast, Harry retrieved the mail, carefully going through it as Petunia instructed and ridding the family of any junk mail.

That was when she noticed the letter addressed to her.

She stared at it a moment, entering the kitchen with a single raised eyebrow.

"Madam Petunia," Harry said slowly, drawing attention to herself from the other members in the house. She never felt comfortable referring to her guardians as Aunt and Uncle, so they were Messrs or Madam, even Dudley, but only out of habit. It was the same way Harry would address strangers; no matter how much she disliked them, she knew better than to show her dislike. They could make life much more complicated for her if that were the case.

"What is it, girl?" Vernon snapped.

"I seemed to have received a practical joke," Harry sniffed, throwing the letter that said _Hogwarts_ on it. "Just who do they think they are? Hogwarts? Really? Who would name a_school_ that?"

Petunia and Vernon momentarily paled at the name, but as Vernon grabbed the letter and scanned it, he gave a slimy grin. "Indeed. Who?"

Harry's eyes narrowed a fraction in mild annoyance. She did not like the fact that what she said pleased Vernon. She was hoping to bait a reaction out of him, have him worked up before he left for work. Whenever he was worked up and left for work he _always_ had a bad day. And Harry was still feeling spiteful at the fact the bastard dared to withhold dinner from her because _Dudley was a growing boy_.

Insufferable, the lot of them.

_Very well, _Harry thought. _If dismissing Hogwarts pleases him, I will have to embrace it. However stupid it sounds._

As Vernon gave another chortle of glee, Harry grabbed for herself an apple and bottle of milk before dismissing herself to the garden outside.

A smile graced her lips as she turned her back to those wretched wastes of spaces. Instead, she enjoyed her breakfast alone and outside and lost herself in the musings of extracting revenge on every one of the Dursley family members.

What a pleasant morning it turned out to be.

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

Harry was never able to retrieve another letter as Vernon kept a close eye on the mail since then. And even after the whole _raining mail_ fiasco, she wasn't able to sneak away a letter before Dudley caught her and squealed her out.

No matter, she washed all of his underwear in hot sauce the next day before drying them and folding them. Dudley still sported a horrendous rash that no matter how much Petunia fretted over him, his unappealing habit of scratching the thingsimply could not be controlled.

Pity.

It was only when Hagrid—some half giant—broke down the door to the hideaway they were staying out at and whisked her off into the night, did she come to the terms that _this_was her opportunity.

A world of magic.

Now, perhaps it _wasn't_ an opportunity, only time would tell. But Harry had a very pleasant feeling that it would, in fact, be a wonderful chance for her.

The first thing to discover would be the underground system. The illegal networks and such. Harry very much doubted Hagrid would know—or share—such knowledge with her so she had a long while of musing to herself before the answer to her question presented itself.

Goblins.

_Neutral_ goblins.

Neutral and _greedy_ goblins.

Oh yes. Harry could work with this.

After some moments of examining her personal vault and Hagrid collecting his item, she turned to Hagrid. In the politest and sweetest voice she could manage she asked, "Messrs Hagrid, may I perhaps stay a while longer for my questions?"

Hagrid gave a sheepish smile. "We don' 'ave a lot of time. Bu' I suppose I could 'rab yer books while yeh ask yer questions."

"Thank you MessrsHagrid," She responded.

"Oh please," Hagrid said, not managing to keep the pleased smile off his face. "Jus' call me 'Agrid."

She only smiled in response and waved goodbye as he left.

"Messrs Grobox?" She inquired, keeping a polite tone with the goblin that had escorted them. "I have a few questions."

He only bared his teeth in a snarl in response. Taking that as a cue to carry on, Harry did.

"If I wished to contact the underground society, how would I go about doing so?" Harry asked outright. She was fairly confident in that even if she was displayed as something less than a _good little girl_, the goblins wouldn't care too much to share.

His eyes narrowed. "Underground…? You mean like You-Know-Who?"

"Who?" Harry blinked.

His eyes narrowed into slits.

She shrugged. "I am assuming this is the same man that died while I was an infant?"

"Yes."

"Then yes, people like him."

"There are no people like him."

"Excuse me?"

"There was only You-Know-Who and no one has dared take the title of Dark Lord since."

Harry stared at him blankly. And then very slowly she said, "You mean to tell me that _no one_ has been greedy enough to take control of the major power vacuum?"

He only stared at her.

Her eyebrows rose. "Messrs, might you point me to where I could find material on better learning the recent structure of this society?"

He gave her a snarl-like grin. "I am not a librarian. If you have nothing further to ask of your vaults—"

"Vault_s_?" Harry interrupted, smiling pleasantly. Vault_s_, as in _plural?_ "Messrs, may I ask if perhaps there is a vault that does not store money—but items? The one we visited had only gold, and surely my parents would have stored valuables here and I doubt they only had money."

He bristled. "Fine! To the Potter Vault."

"Potter Vault? What, as in some sort of ancient family vault…? Dear me, is the wizarding society some sort of pureblooded monarchists?"

"Close."

"Wonderful!"

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

"A wand is next," Harry said, reading off the list. Though what she said was only absently spoken. Her mind was still reeling from what she uncovered in the vault. Truly, magnificent. She would, of course, need to go through everything and see what she can do… but for now it would be best to ignore the vaults.

The plans that she had formulating in her mind would do just fine with the seventy five thousand galleons she had been left.

A power vacuum. Truly… a _power vacuum_. And a _bumbling boisterous government to boot!_ And the laws… oh their laws were so vague and left so many _wonderful_ loopholes. Thinking of everything Harry could do was making her head spin in anticipation. There were so many things to do! So many places to go, so many connections to make…!

But, firstly, Harry needed to finish her shopping. Next, she needed a better feel of this world. She needed to properly understand how everything worked. Then she needed to establish how to contact the people she needed, what to tell them to do and her first business…

As Hagrid went off to do… something… Harry went off to grab her wand. After much debating, she finally received a wand that was twin to the one owned by 'You-Know-Who' person who killed her parents.

The irony was not lost on her.

And Hagrid returned with… a beautiful black owl. She remembered passing it along the way here and mentioning to Hagrid about it.

As he handed it to her—saying something about a birthday present—Harry flushed happily and beamed.

She always wanted a pet.

And it would seem Hagrid had made a special spot in her heart from his kind gift.

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

Ronald Weasley, she discovered, was annoying.

In fact, the only reason she had not promptly ditched him was because—_he was an information fountain!_ While he did not know of illegal activities, he had brothers everywhere. And he had even more siblings that would go _everywhere_. Without even meaning to, he had slipped her valuable information.

Such as, there were bars in the wizarding world, but there were no _bars_. Bars could be entered with children and toddlers and everything would still be kept rated PG and occasionally PG-13. Why in the duce hasn't any wizard tried to exploit alcohol upon ignorant young witches and wizards was beyond Harry. It was easy money. Furthermore there was something called _Knockturn Alley_ which dealt in 'all sorts of nasty businesses'.

An alley that would require further investigation. And then there was Quidditch—the only thing wizards gambled on. Something that would have to change as well.

And then Draco Malfoy walked in, a complete stranger, and grinned at Harry.

She raised an eyebrow, studying his prestigious robes and slicked back hair. A pureblood then. Rich. Yet held a cocky attitude and had two meat walls flanking him. Rich daddy.

Hello, potential ally.

"So it's true, then, Potter's on the train," the boy said, grinning cockily at Harry.

She only quirked an eyebrow. "And you are?"

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

"Would you care to join Mr. Weasley and myself, he was explaining the rules of Quidditch to me?"

At the mention of sharing the same compartment of Ron, Draco's mouth twisted, but at the implication of her ignorance of Quidditch…

"You don't know what Quidditch is?" Draco demanded. He immediately marched into the compartment and sat next to her. "How can you _not_ know?"

"I was raised by insufferable Muggles, why would I know?" She pointed out wearily.

"But Quidditch is the greatest thing!" Ron blurted out.

"Weasley's right," Draco agreed. "This just won't do. Oh alright, I suppose I'll have to tell you about it—can't trust a Weasley to get everything right."

While Ron bristled and the meatballs slid into a compartment next to theirs, she smiled. Always better to make potential allies and discard them later, than discard them too soon and need them later.

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

While Draco and Ron were in a heated discussion about their favorite teams, a girl entered the room sporting a look of mild exasperation.

"Have any of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville lost one," She said.

"Tell him to ask one of the older students to try a summoning charm for it," Harry said dryly.

Her eyebrows shot up and she frowned. "Why didn't I…?"

She smiled. "Harry Potter, a pleasure Madam…?"

"Hermione Granger," Hermione clarified.

Draco's face twisted up. "Muggleborn?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Is something wrong with that, Messrs Draco?"

"Well—"

"When it seems quite clear that purebloods are going about it all wrong," she went on. "Do they honestly believe that they were pure from the start? They had to be ordinary at some point or do all the families believe they are so incestuous they are all children of Merlin?"

"Look here—"

"Madam Granger is a _muggleborn_ now," she said, still carrying on. "But her grandchildren and so on—will they be muggleborn?"

Draco stared at her, frowning. Ron and Hermione—both with mixed expressions of shock and curiosity.

"No," Draco said slowly.

"So why are you discriminating against her now, and thus sabotaging the Malfoy family of an ally later on?" she asked.

Draco stared at her. "What?"

"By making an enemy of her now," she clarified. "You are rivaling two houses that would be pureblood and ruining the chances of a very promising alliance in the future."

"But the Malfoy family is superior—"

"—_now_," she interrupted. "Yes, yes. But can you guarantee that in the future, Messrs Draco? Are you really so arrogant and ignorant you can safely say that you will _never_ need the help of _any_ other pureblood family for your grandchildren?"

Draco stared at Harry, mouth hanging open.

"I am merely saying," Harry said slowly. "That you should _never_ turn down an alliance that might benefit you—especially when it would not hurt you to keep it."

Draco blinked, closing his mouth and eying Hermione carefully.

"If you are worth my time," Draco told her. "I will… accept your alliance."

"What?" Hermione blinked. "I never—"

"Madam Hermione, won't you please join us? I am sure you have never heard of Quidditch either and these two are most anxious to explain to all those who listen about it," Harry said, smiling.

Hermione stared at her curiously, before eyeing the two other boys. "… I… suppose…"

Ron grinned at her and Draco remained indifferent.

But secretly, both were very happy to explain more about Quidditch.

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

_Hmm? What have we here… Oh Slytherin. Yes, definitely Slytherin_.

She shivered at the voice in her head from the Sorting Hat before realizing what it was saying.

_No!_ Harry thought fiercely. She would not be found out so easily by being placed in the most obviously antagonist House._ Besides, that's far too cliché. Put me in Gryffindor._

She needed to keep up her façade of being the hero anyway.

_Well. It's true that Gryffindor would be your next House due to your... _obsession _(and that's actually an understatement) with—_

_Then put me in Gryffindor._

_While you do show qualities of being Gryffindor, I believe—_

_I do not want Slytherin. I will not accept that house._

_But you would truly—_

_I. Do. Not. Want. Slytherin._

_But—_

_Gryffindor._

_But—_

_Gryffindor!_

_"GRYFFINDOR!"_

_Dear God, was that so hard?_

…_. Still think you would have done better in Slytherin._

_Don't care._

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

Harry had two days before classes began and she used those two days to find out who to talk to in order to get a certain task done. When she finally derived the information from a chatty Slytherin, she quickly flew to the Owlery and made a very unique note and sent it off with her owl.

It would be a shame she could not be there in person, but for now her owl would do just fine.

The next day she had class—Transfiguration and DADA.

Upon meeting the DADA teacher, she concluded he was some sort of sick (and not in a physical way) man and vowed if he did anything suspicious to her, she would kill him. Personally. For starters, there was the fact that her scar always seemed to hurt when around him. Her scar didn't normally hurt and she was tempted to go along the lines of 'her spidey-senses were tingling!'

But she wasn't a superhero, so she just made a safe assumption that her life wasn't in the best of care when around him.

Then there was his stutter.

Now, a stutter wouldn't be so much of a problem—if it weren't so undeniably _fake._

Harry had never heard of a stutter where the person was able to clearly pronounce every letter in the stutter in a rhythmic pattern that the stutter appeared like a clockwork, every ten seconds into the conversation, followed by thirty, then a minute then two then—

Followed by his distinctive tendency to _not_ look her in the eye, almost as if he was guilty of something.

Then the garlic, if he was really a DADA teacher, shouldn't he have known that only if the garlic was ingested by the vampire was it deadly? She was a _first year_ and she knew that. How would that garlic work if he had no means of forcing the vampire to digest it? Furthermore, why would he go through the trouble of forcing the vampire to digest it—thus killing it—when he could just kill it with a nicely aimed spell? A lot simpler, too.

No, no. The garlic was there for a different reason.

And Harry had her own assumptions.

A stutter to make him weak. Her 'spidey-senses tingling'. Couldn't look her in the eye—guilty conscious, doubtlessly. And a strange fetish for garlic.

He was a sex offender. Obviously.

And he was clearly having disturbed visions of Harry.

Something of which Harry would not tolerate, but because she had no solid proof, she would merely keep her distance. But the moment he tried something…

Transfiguration was an interesting class and Harry had a sort of respect for the strict teacher. Nothing else could be said about it, though. Harry couldn't quite decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

When her owl returned, along with a note from a certain well connected man, she smiled.

_Mr. Moratorium,_

_I will agree to meet with you and bring along my associate._

_Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron in London, eight p.m. this Saturday._

Carefully burning the letter, Harry smiled gleefully.

Of course she had to go under the impression of someone else. She was walking a thin line and it would be easier to hide back into the role of _good girl_ Harry Potter if something happened to _bad boy_ Moratorium, hence why she kept the good girl charade. That, and it wouldn't hurt to make as many alliances as she could in every identity she held.

Now, of course, she had the minor problem of reaching the Leaky Cauldron. But it was only minor as she figured out long ago how to reach it. It would be risky, but this was risky business.

_Oh yes_, Harry felt her smile widening considerably. _Risky business indeed._

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

History proved to be useful only as a free studying time. Time she used to pondered her plans and mused about ways of going about them. She quite enjoyed that class.

Herbology was actually a favorite. She always enjoyed her garden at home, so it was no surprise she took to that class as well. Especially knowing how many dangerous and_interesting_ plants were out there just _waiting_ to be—

Potions was…

Well, she knew not _everyone_ could like her _good girl_ charade.

After Professor Snape finished his little monologue that had immediately perked Draco and Harry's interest—the two were sitting together, of course. He turned around and said, "Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

She blinked. Oh. She knew this. It was one of her favorites—the name caught her attention. "Draught of the Living Dead."

"Sir."

"What?"

"_Sir_, Miss Potter."

She frowned, for once her normally active brain not quite getting it. "Sir? But you don't need to call _me_ sir—" the class chuckled behind her, but she ignored them. "—and wouldn't I be a ma'am then? I mean I know I haven't reached puberty, but you have to give me _some_ credit, Professor."

Professor Snape glared disdainfully at her, his lip curling up in distaste. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for cheek, Potter. Where would you look if I told you to find a bezoar?"

"A store?" she guessed. "That's usually where you find antidotes—unless you want it fresh, then you get it from a goat's stomach, sir. Oh! _That's_ what you meant by… oh. Okay."

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Potter, I suggest you learn to control your mouth."

She paused for a moment, debating before she decided to risk it. She raised her hand politely.

He didn't like her already, Harry had nothing to lose—except points but she could earn those back in other classes.

"What, Miss Potter?" Professor Snape asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Well," she began carefully. "I was curious as to why you are showing such blatant dislike for me _before_ I even opened my mouth. I can understand _now_, sir, as I have proven to be rather, as you say _cheeky_. But it goes two ways _now_ as well. I have lost all respect for you by your repeated use of inquiring advanced materials in an attempt to make me look like an incompetent moronic makes you appear as some sort of petty bully, you see. But back to my original curious question… _why me_?"

He did not answer. With the most flushed and hateful glare he gave, his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Detention with me, Potter, _tonight!_"

She shrugged. At least she didn't lose anymore points.

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

Detention was uneventful as he just made her scrub cauldrons with her bare hands and no magic. Really, she had worse punishments at the Dursleys. When that was done, she only had Astrology and Charms and then she could focus on her… business.

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

With the weekend now there, Harry rummaged through her bag before procuring one of the few items she had taken from the vaults. It was a small bag with a very unique charm inside it. In actuality—it was a portal floo.

Naturally, the bag perked her interest when she noticed how it was so carefully hung and singled out. She inquired its uses to the goblin who explained the floo network and such to her. She was very pleased to have made the discovery.

The bag was small enough to be held in one of her hands and after informing Hermione she would be taking a long walk around the school before doing her homework, she snuck off to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, then greeted the ghost with a smile.

"Hello, dear," Harry said with a smile. Myrtle was melodramatic and at times a bit annoying, but it was _she_ who knew nearly everything about the castle. And she was quite pleased to have held the attention of Harry so very closely. Harry knew Myrtle would cover for her due to that attention.

"Hello, Harry," Myrtle called back, giving her a sly smile. "Where are you off to?"

Harry pulled out the other item she had taken from the bag—a bag with an undetectable expendable charm.

"I'm going to make some business offers. Would you mind making sure no one comes in while I change?"

"Oooh! If someone comes, can I scare them?"

"Whatever pleases you, dear."

Myrtle gave a gleeful laugh and dived away while Harry rummaged through the pack. Finally finding the ring she needed, she slipped it on her finger.

Harry felt a strange sensation wash over her before it passed. She blinked before looking into the mirror and quirking an eyebrow. Her normally long black hair was now significantly shorter and cut. Her feminine face was rougher, sharper. And her first hints of breasts were squashed flat and her height was increased, her frame more agile…

The ring had successfully changed her genders by appearance. She then pulled out the second ring, momentarily aging her by five years. Sadly, she couldn't age herself any more—only decrease or increase her age by five, but it would do.

Finally, she changed her clothes. No more in Hogwarts uniform,instead she wore a snazzy suit with a very nice suit hat to match. Nothing too much, but enough to give the impression that she had money—which she did of course, but not as much as she wanted them to think at the moment.

She tucked away her Hogwarts uniform in her bag before pulling out a long black scarf. After safely wrapping the scarf around the lower halfof her face and putting the bag away she called out, "Leaving now!"

"If you die, you can share my toilet!"

Harry gave a humorless chuckle before flooing to the Leaky Cauldron.

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

"I require the assistance of killing a man."

Merwyn Movilani wasn't quite sure what to think of the young man sitting across from him. Jared Brusche had contacted him, telling him there was a bloke who needed a job done. Merwyn specialized in these types of jobs, yes, but most of his employers were…

Well. Not so young.

Merwyn continued to eye the young man skeptically, Jared long since dismissed himself since the man appeared.

"And how would you have it done?" Merwyn asked, his accent coming out heavier than usual.

The young man cocked his head. "You do not question who to kill first. How wonderful. It must be an accident. A tragic death."

"As usual," Merwyn muttered under his breath.

"I would assume," he said pleasantly. "It is a Muggle. A Messrs by the name of Larry Brew." The young man paused, dipping into his coat with his black gloved hand and pulling out an envelope. "This will provide all the information you need."

"Payment," Merwyn said.

"Seven hundred galleons; two hundred up front and five hundred when finished."

Merwyn, to his credit, did not raise an eyebrow. All this for a Muggle? Far too easy… did this man realize he was being scammed?

But as Merwyn tried to analyze the young man, Merwyn realized it wasn't true. The young man knew very well how much of an overblown it was. He seemed to realize this and was accepting it. In fact, he was hoping for Merwyn to realize this as well. As if—

Merwyn almost smiled. Clever boy.

Because by promising plenty of money now, the boy definitely increased the chances of Merwyn coming back to him for more work and thus more money, increased the chance of more loyalty out of Merwyn as well. By offering this much money for such a small job, the boy was setting himself up.

Setting himself up for what, Merwyn didn't know. But from a first glance, Merwyn had a sneaky feeling it would be something big.

And profitable.

Merwyn smiled. "I take it there will be more jobs after this?"

The boy seemed to smile, very pleased with Merwyn's question. "If I find the results satisfactory."

"Do not shame me, Señor. I aim to please."

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

Harry was indeed very pleased with the results of the Italian assassin. Very pleased indeed. Larry Brew was a rival of Vernon. With him out of the way, Vernon's business would undoubtedly increase—not that Harry was hoping to please Vernon. It's just that if Vernon's business improved… he would be more busy… more busy meant less time at home… less time at home meant more chances for her to sneak away during the summer and work blissfully on her project.

That and it was a safe way to test the man. And the test was most certainly passed.

Immediately, Harry wrote to Merwyn using the owl—Envoy—specially bought for these trips. It was the same owl Hagrid bought, true, but it was the only means of safe transportation she had.

Well, not true, but until the connections were made, an owl would do.

And Merwyn replied, almost immediately.

_Acting as your messenger, I am, am I? Very well, Señor Moratorium._

_I have bought the flat you have requested and I am currently following the instructions you have placed._

_I will be sure to follow them to the letter, in exchange for the five hundred galleons you promised me._

Harry almost yipped with joy. Of course she actually didn't as she wasn't alone when reading the letter and that would surely draw attention to herself, but nonetheless… It was pleasant news.

The first step in establishing herself would be to decide where she would go.

Obviously she would be taking an underground hold eventually. If this Dark Lord was long gone and there was an open space… who was she to deny herself the opportunity of taking that spot? But first the wizarding world would need an underground network. Honestly, it was too… sloppy yet neat. Oh, the nasties were there alright, they were just disorganized.

They didn't even have a magical brothel in all of Britain.

That was just sad.

But they certainly had prostitutes. They were just homeless and in sore need of a bath.

They didn't even have a real _bar_—an actual rated R or unrated (depending on the night) bar that forbade kiddies to go in. Naturally Harry herself wouldn't be attending, but there was big money in those things. And Harry had every intentions of taking advantage of the lack of strict laws regarding such things in the wizarding world. Oh they had plenty about Dark Magic and such—but nothing about inappropriate drinking or… lusting.

And then there was the blackmailing side.

Owls. They sent valued mail through owls.

Could no one see the possibility of these being intercepted?

Something that would _have_ to be looked into. Perhaps if she could find the right people with the right sort of skills…

Then there was gambling and dueling and thievery and of course she just _had_ to have her own assassin's guild. Who didn't want an assassin's guild? And mercenaries (because assassins and mercenaries _were_ different. Mercenaries did just about anything. Assassin's did elegant kills). Oh yes, and races and…

So. Many. Possibilities.

But better to start small. The bar. The bar would be made and money would come. The bar was but the first step.

The bar, then the brothel, and then the owls. From then, she would decide more carefully. The bar as the first baby step—just a toe in the water. It was just a more mature version of what she had already seen. The brothel would be more up front, but it would definitely bring in some money.

The owls would be riskier. But by the time she had been ready to try that she would have found the right people through the brothel and bar.

It was a step; a baby step.

But it would do for now.

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

The bar was a smashing success. Harry grinned happily as she sent the next instructions for the brothel to a very eager Marwyn. Her grin managed to last her throughout the entire Halloween feast—which she had to skip to mail Marwyn—but had slipped when she found the troll.

A portrait had been kind enough to warn her of the thing so she was on the way to the tower when she stumbled across the stupid thing.

She glared at it. She was going to be the next Dark Lord—whatever that title even meant! No one ever talked about 'You-Know-Who'—and she was certainly not going to let some slow mountain troll in her way. Besides, it wasn't even a water troll. It was just incredibly strong and incredibly stupid.

The troll noticed her and gave a disgusting grin.

She held up her wand. How embarrassing would it be if Moratorium were taken down by a mere troll? Immensely!

"_Diffindo!_" Said Harry, pointing her wand at the exposed tender flesh of the Troll's inner elbow as it raised its arm. It was her first time using the spell on an actual target and she hoped it would be enough to work.

The troll cried out in agony as it clutched it's now bleeding heavily arm.

Harry pointed her wand to his back knee as he twisted his leg, exposing the tender flesh. "_Diffindo."_

It cried out again then fell to the ground with a loud thump and it glowered with a mixture of fear and hatred at Harry.

She rolled her eyes before pointing her wand at its face. "_Stupefy_."

The troll slipped off into oblivion and she then turned on her heel and went off to the Gryffindor tower.

No point in sticking around and drawing attention.

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

It was at winter break when she was reminded of Quidditch practice.

Ah yes, the (what she was now beginning to consider) foolish choice. Long ago at the beginning of the school year when she first had her flying lessons, Draco decided to dare Harry to catch the fragile ball he had stolen from Neville. Naturally she had to play the _good little Gryffindor_ and had to accept the challenge.

Somehow in the end, she ended up as Gryffindor's youngest Seeker in a century.

Somehow.

She was still trying to figure out the how herself, but no matter. She saw it as an ample opportunity to further plant the seeds of how _nice_ and _Gryffindor-_ishshe was and _not Moratorium_. Now, naturally she had flown solo practices with the Keeper, Oliver Wood, but today he wanted to try out teams for the upcoming match.

And Harry _really_ didn't want to go. She would be getting her mail from Marwyn about her brothel _any_ moment now and…

Oh, there it was.

…

And it was already a smashing success! Who knew gathering up all the prostitutes, providing them with a warm place to eat and sleep, bathing and clothing them in exchange for doing what they do and only giving twenty percent of what they make _to_ the house… Forty percent of which went straight to yours truly, twenty percent to the Martyr, thirty percent for the actual upkeep and ten percent for emergencies…

Goodness, Harry was making quite a bit of money. Kudos for her. And it would seem Marwyn had proven to be quite reliable.

_Perhaps_, Harry mused, _it would be time to switch to a more immediate means of communication._

That would be later, though, as Oliver was quite adamant about Quidditch. He was practically frothing at the mouth with the prospect of beating their first opponent—the Slytherins—next week.

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

After a very tiring lesson Harry replied to Marwyn, informing him of a new way to communicate—mirrors. Of course, nevertheless Harry couldn't allow him to see her true form so her side of the mirror was enchanted that no one could see her—only hear her or see whatever message she wanted to project into and through the mirror.

It was quite wonderful, actually. Harry's next task for Marwyn was to see if he could find any… people that could fill the job descriptions of what she needed for the Owls.

She doubted she would be in the Owl business for long. Just enough to grab enough blackmail on certain people to grab attention and turn some heads. While business was booming for both the bar and brothel they were only two places.

Harry needed to be better known. _Moratorium_ needed to be better known.

But for now, she had to rely on Marwyn. It was out of her hands.

Meanwhile, she would be getting quite a healthy deposit of galleons in her (well, _Moratorium's_ vault, she had to set up an extra one) vault weekly…

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

"I don't know if I should cheer for you or not," Draco muttered, eyeing Harry once she finished dressing out in her House Team uniform.

"Of _course_ you'll cheer for her. Honestly, this whole House-rivalry thing seems so silly," Hermione said with a delicate sniff.

After Hermione had made herself perfectly well-known as one of the brightest witches this generation had ever seen, Draco deemed her worthy of holding an 'alliance' with him. Because Heaven forbid Slytherins had _friends_ and not _alliances_.

"Who cares if he does or not," Ron put in. "She'll win either way."

"Maybe," Harry muttered. "So long as Quirrel doesn't give me the creeper eye, I won't freeze up with fear or anything."

"Honestly, he's too quiet to be a serious threat, stop worrying about him," Draco said.

"It's always the quiet ones," Ron muttered.

"Too true," Harry agreed. "Well, I should go head off with my team. I would say wish me luck, but clearly I won't need it."

All three snorted at that.

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

After dangling for her life from her broom, hacking up the snitch and winning them the game—Harry was pretty darn tired. So she thought it was only fair that she would get a chance to sleep and such but _no_.

"And he was making eye contact the entire time—he wasn't _blinking_," Hermione exclaimed. "You were right about Quirrel, something is definitely up about him."

"Well _of course_ I was right. I'm always right," Harry said.

"I _told you_, you shouldn't have told her that," Draco groaned, exasperated. "She's already such a narcissist, she didn't need any more help!"

"Kudos for the big word, Draco," Harry said sweetly.

He shot her a withering glare.

Harry only smiled in return. "So, the sex offender—"

"Wouldn't it be pedophile if he was fantasizing about _you_?" Ron asked, frowning.

"Oh, yes that's right. So the pedophile now has a fetish for murder," Harry summed up.

"But why you?" Draco asked, a small frown on his face. "Aren't you supposed to be the hero? The-Girl-Who-Lived and all? Why would he want to kill you?"

"Maybe it's because she's friends with a Slytherin," Ron said with a cheeky grin.

Draco gave him a loathing glare. "Or perhaps because she's stooped so low to blood traitors."

"Wouldn't that be a bit hypocritical coming from your side now, Draco?" Harry inquired slyly.

Draco glanced at Hermione and shrugged.

"Keep focused," Said Hermione, shooting both boys annoyed looks. "This is _serious_."

"No, he's in Azkaban," Draco muttered.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Sirius Black."

"Oh, I read about him," Hermione said. "Wasn't he the mass murderer or something? Oh, I just read about him recently too! Just over three weeks ago, let me think here…"

"Later 'Mione," Harry said. "You can tell me all about him when you remember. But for now, _I_ would like to sleep."

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

_Okay_, Harry thought to herself when her frie—_alliances_—left._ I have a nasty suspicion that there's more to this than at first glance. Mr. Pedophile clearly has an ulterior motive, but what could it be? What could killing me possibly accomplish?_

Or was he perhaps trying to kill Moratorium?

No, no. Moratorium was still just a toe in the water. No blackmail and truly illegal activities so it would be highly unlikely he had any enemies.

Then why did someone try to kill Harry Potter? She thought for sure that she had held up her façade very well. She kept up to a very _nice_ and _good girl_ Gryffindor with true school spirit and a knack of getting the last word in (she couldn't quite suppress that side of her—but she tried… a little).

She doubted very much she would have offended the damn man, so what could it possibly be? Was she some sort of key? Did her parents have enemies that—

_Oh_.

You-Know-Who had been her enemy, still was actually. Hagrid and Draco didn't quite believe he's dead—still waiting out there. And she had a sneaky suspicion that was correct. So assuming the previous Dark Lord was still alive it would only make sense he would want her dead, especially if he knew about Moratorium.

Mr. Pedophile must then be some sort of Dark Lord Fanatic or something of the like if he was trying to rid himself of her.

The question then begged, how to proceed?

Obviously with caution and cunning. She didn't want to bring Moratorium into this unless she wanted to draw attention to herself. How suspicious would it be that the Girl-Who-Lived hired a hit man to kill off her professor?

Or how suspicious would it be that said hit man already knew the danger the Girl-Who-Lived was in without supposedly ever entering the school?

Too risky.

Therefore she would have to have him be eliminated via Harry Potter. She would have to confront him in a duel of sorts and make sure it appeared that she was in the right and he in the wrong. But how to do such a thing…?

And suddenly she remembered the strange thing Hagrid pocketed from the vault. How valuable it seemed—how hushed up. How it had to go straight to Dumbledore, but why?

Then she remembered how the third corridor was off limits—and the twins had informed her that was not normally the case. Ergo the corridor would only be off limits now because of something new. Something new and valuable was there. And Harry would bet all of her money that it was that strange object.

Harry smiled as a plan formed into her head. If she could get the object and plant it on Quirrel she could confront him about it. When questioned too deeply about why she confronted him, she could certainly bluff her way through and claim she overheard him talking to himself about stealing it. She and many other students had already overheard him talking to himself when he thought he was alone. Though no one could figure out what exactly he was saying.

She could confront him, push him a little to give an attempt to kill her then she could _accidentally_ fire off an attack that _tragically_ killed him.

Yes. That would work.

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

A Hellhound. Honestly, such a hassle. She would have to discuss with Hagrid and see if he would give her information about them. She didn't want to use her Moratorium sources unless absolutely needed to.

As Harry entered Hagrid's cabin, her nose crinkled at the smell of burnt hair. Obviously Hagrid hadn't rid himself of the smell of Norbert. Oh well, at least no one was caught and the dragon safely made it off with Charlie.

"Hagrid?" Harry inquired.

The half giant turned around from the stove and gave her a sunny grin. "Well 'ello there, 'Arry. Come for some tea?"

"Tea would be lovely, thank you. Actually I came here to inquire about magical companions," Harry said, sliding into the hut and taking a seat on the massive chair that she normally sat in.

Hagrid glanced at her over his shoulder while he busied himself with tea. "Oh? Wha' can I tell yah?"

"There are all sorts of beasts out there and I was beginning to consider one for myself," Harry said. "I'm not quite sure where to begin."

"Oh let's see here… wha' would you li' one for?"

"I'm not sure. Companionship, obviously. It would be useful if it could guard something. Or perhaps just simply something that could—and would—defend me," Harry said carefully. Better not ask the questions _too_ directly.

"Hmm," Hagrid mused. "Well. Hippogriffs are 'ovely things—very proud of course, you see, but very 'ovely. They're very loyal too and they would guard as 'ell as defend their masters. But it takes quite a bi' for them to consider anyone a master. Let's see… Griffins are goo' as 'ell, same as Hippogriffs."

"Really?" Harry inquired. "What if I wanted something bigger?"

"Bigger?" Hagrid repeated, almost absently. "Bigger ons' are certainly a lot more fun, I think. There's Hellhounds and… Basilisks…"

"Hellhounds and Basilisks?" Harry repeated though she immediately frowned. She hadn't meant to repeat Basilisks, but her curiosity took hold of her tongue.

"Oh yes," Hagrid said, smiling and turning around and presenting her with very sweet tea. She smiled at him as she sipped the tea. "Never had a Basilisk myself 'course. But I 'ave had a Hellhound."

"Really? Can you tell me about them—both of them?" Harry asked.

"Well Hellhounds are mighty fine creatures, they are. Very 'oyal and guard very well. They're a bit of a handful to raise but well worth it, I think."

"But they sound dangerous," Harry said. "What if they attacked you? Or got too restless?"

"You relax 'em 'course," Hagrid said. "Take Fluffy—the Hellhound I raised—you just play him a bit of music and he'll fall right 'sleep."

"Fluffy?" Harry repeated. "He sounds… actually quite adorable. Will I get a chance to meet him?"

Hagrid frowned. "Doubt it. He's busy 'elping Dumbledore."

"Pity. What can you tell me about Basilisks then?"

"Well…"

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

As always Hagrid proved himself to be immeasurably useful. Why on earth didn't everyone befriend the gentle man? He was very easy to get along with and much more he was so_very_ useful. Then again it might prove to be a hinder should he catch wind of any of Harry's secrets—he seemed to somehow unknowingly give vital things away.

Oh well. He was still useful as far as Harry was concerned.

Now it was only a matter of—

"There you are Harry," Draco said, moving up to walk alongside her. "I was looking for you. I need someone to practice Quidditch with."

"Now?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Now," Draco said.

"Oh alright," Harry sighed. "But not for long, I _do_ have plans."

"No you don't."

"How would you know? What are you some sort of mind reader?"

Draco gave her a cocky grin. "Maybe I am."

"Don't be ridiculous," Harry snorted. "Wizards can't read minds."

"Yes they can. It's called Legilimens."

Harry froze. "What?"

Draco grinned.

Oh, dear.

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

Not only did she have to steal whatever was in the third corridor—she now had to learn Occlumency! Well, it was a good thing that Draco informed her of this now—could you imagine what would happen if someone performed Legilimency on Harry Potter—or, worse, Moratorium?

She shuddered to think of such a hassle.

But learning Occlumency would be a bit troublesome as she discovered there were few books in the library about it—and none that explained how to learn it. She supposed she could risk using Moratorium to… acquire a few books. Not too suspicious on either part, actually… yes… yes indeed…

But for tonight she would be retrieving the stone. It was well past midnight and she moved through the school in the _generous_ gift she had received for Christmas.

Whoever gave her the cloak was either the nicest fool or the boldest rival. She couldn't quite decide—or really bother to—between the two.

She slipped into the room with Fluffy in it, waving her wand and casting an eerie sound from it. Gentle, creepy, lullaby music drifted around the room and the dog was asleep in little to no time. She scanned the room for another doorway or such, finding a trapdoor.

Moving the paw of the great creature she dropped down into the plants.

And this was another reason she liked Herbology. She was quite fascinated with these plants. Casting a fire spell, she burned them away before continuing on. The keys were rather simple and the chess was also simple. Whoever charmed the chess weren't a very good player themselves.

Moving on she read Snape's riddle and Stupefied the troll (not that it really needed to, it seemed to remember her quite clearly and was well cowed). Finally, she found the mirror and read the name carved onto it.

Ah yes, Hermione informed her about this mirror.

She eyed the mirror before imagining her desire in wanting to _find_ the object. She didn't really care so much for using it or whatever. She just needed to find it. Frankly, she wasn't even sure if she would be retrieving the object on her first try.

She felt a lump in her pocket before producing a red stone. She frowned at it. It didn't _look_ particularly grand—certainly not a ruby or such, but who was she to dismiss it so easily? Perhaps it was some sort of stabilizer for a certain potion or it was a seal that held a vicious creature…

Harry shook her head, pocketing the stone. Well, it would do her no good now to think upon it. But… if it proved valuable…

She cocked her head. Perhaps she could make a mimic of it? She knew there was a spell that could provide a carbon copy of small items that worked in the same way leprechaun's gold worked. If the stone was in fact a stabilizer, the copy would work as a stabilizer. But after time passed it would disappear.

And if this thing was so valuable, perhaps it would be better to… not risk it, yes? But first she would have to research what exactly it was…

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

The Sorcerer's Stone was indeed deemed valuable and was shipped off to the Potter Vault the next day after making a carbon copy that will last for three days.

The only thing left now was to plant it upon the pedophile. And she already had a plan for such a feat.

"A prank?" Draco and Hermione repeated Harry incredulously.

Harry gave her two favorite friends a mischievous smile. "Indeed. I was hoping to pull a small prank on the pedophile while he was unaware, however I cannot do such a thing in the state he is in now. Hermione, dear, because you have more of a conscience than Draco and I, I will kindly ask you leave us be until the actual prank may be pulled."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow. "You aren't going to kill him, are you?"

"No."

"Maim?"

"No."

"Torture?"

"… No."

"Then I suppose… but if you better not break any more than _two_ school rules. If you do, I will report you to our Head."

"Very well. Come Draco! Let us wreak havoc and mayhem upon the pedophile."

Draco gave a cocky grin, a glint in his eyes. "Easy enough."

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

Draco and Harry knelt behind a potted plant, watching as the pedophile maneuvered his way towards them. He was going to head down the stairs and that was when they would make their move. At the top of the stairs was a simple pebble. A simple pebble that would be The Key.

As he neared, Harry and Draco pulled out their wands and pointed towards the pebble.

Just as he was about to step over the pebble—

Harry swished her wand, transfiguring it into a stick and Draco muttered, "_Wingardium Leviosa._"

The pedophile did a spectacular tumble, hitting his forehead against the floor and slumping unconscious.

The two high-fived and sped away to alert a teacher.

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

"You attacked a teacher!" Hermione shrieked.

"No. He tripped and fell down the stairs," Draco said.

"We just provided the opportunity," Harry said with a grin.

"I can't believe it—how could you?"

"He's not dead, just sleeping in the hospital bed. Now are you going to come with us to help or are you going let us off on our own where we _might_ do more damage?" Draco taunted.

Hermione glared at both of them. "Honestly! I can't leave the two of you alone, can I?"

"No," they chorused.

"By the way, is Ron still in detention?" Harry asked. "I was hoping we could kidnap him for help…"

"Kidnap who?"

The three students turned their heads to find Ron entering the Great Hall and sliding into a seat beside Harry. He frowned at them. "What?"

"We're going to prank the pedophile," Harry said.

"Cool. Can I come?"

Draco's nose crinkled. "Who would want a filthy blood traitor like you to come?"

Harry and Hermione rolled their eyes as Ron bristled. Boys.

"Look at the pot calling the kettle black!" Ron snapped.

"So," Harry said loudly. "Prank. Now. Let's go."

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

The four students crept into the dimly lit hospital wing, well past their curfews. After stepping on multiple toes and Harry demeaning it safe, they pulled off the invisibility cloak.

"Oh this is such a bad idea," Hermione whispered, a look of horror on her face. "Why did I come? Why didn't I just talk to a teacher…?"

"Because we're your friends," Ron said.

"And we would do more damage if you didn't come," Harry pointed out.

"Not to mention you know you wanted to," Draco added.

Hermione shot Draco a glare, but it didn't last long.

"Remember the plan?" Harry whispered.

The three other students nodded.

A simple plan, really. Ron and Draco would stage a fight right outside the curtains that were enclosed around the pedophile. Hermione would shriek and claim to tell a teacher and while those three were distracted Harry would enact her 'prank'. She informed the others that she would merely be planting jelly legs on him among a few other things while he was distracted by Ron and Draco.

In actuality, she would slip the carbon copy of the stone near him. On the bed when he sat up or something of the like and then she would yell and claim he had stolen the same stone she had seen Hagrid had extracted from the vault.

No doubt one of her friends would rush off to inform a teacher—Draco or Hermione, she wasn't sure—and in that time she would taunt the pedophile into attacking her. It wouldn't be too hard as a.) he already wanted her dead and; b.) the teachers would be arriving soon and if he didn't leave soon he would be in quite the trouble.

It was risky, of course. But that's what made it so tempting to go through. There were countless other safer plans to dispose of him, but Harry enjoyed this one.

Perhaps it was because she was doing it with her frien—_alliances_. Honestly it would do her no good if she had emotional attachments to them. Ehem. Or perhaps she was just an adrenaline junkie and adored the thrill of risks. Either way, this plan would work out well in the end.

Harry slipped away from her friends, hugging the cloak tightly as she neared the pedophile. Draco and Ron began their argument and Hermione waited a moment before presenting herself.

The pedophile moved in his bed before Harry could hear him sitting up. Pushing back the curtain, she froze, mouth agape.

He wasn't wearing his turban.

There was a _face_ on the back of his head.

A heartbeat passed and Harry knew she had to abandon her current plan. She released her magic over the stone and threw off her cloak. The face immediately saw her as she wretched the curtains away. The pedophile whirled his face to her, presenting the other face to Hermione and the others.

Hermione screamed.

Ron and Draco paled.

"You brats!" hissed the pedophile.

"Shut up pedophile!" Harry snarled. "Your damn fantasies have come to an end!"

The pedophile blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"_The girl…. The girl has touched the stone!"_

An involuntary shudder ran through Harry at the voice. She stared at the face, incomprehension in her eyes until…

It clicked.

She gaped. "I know who you are… you're… you're…"

The face cackled. _"Yes child… it is I."_

She knew the name. She knew it! But it was spoken so _long_ ago and so rarely used, she couldn't recall it perfectly. She knew it though! But she had a good guess…

"You're Lord Voldewhore!"

"_Correct, it is I, Lord—WHAT?!"_

"It's You-Know-Who," Ron whispered fearfully, eyes wide.

_"You'll pay for that, you brat! Servant—kill them! Kill them all!"_

Draco gave a terrified scream along with Hermione and Ron looked queasy. Only Harry remained her ground. This was her chance. If she could get rid of this fool then no one would question Moratorium's power—ever again! She could rid herself of this potential rival and—

"Avada Kedavra!" the pedophile shrieked, pointing his wand towards Hermione.

But Draco was faster. Whether he intended to, or he thought it was aimed towards him and was going for self-preservation (Harry would have guessed the second one), he jumped to the direct side, accidentally (or purposely, she _really_ couldn't decide) knocking Hermione over with him.

The green bolt of light slammed against the door.

The DADA professor's face contorted with rage, but Harry also felt something akin.

She was furious.

Hermione was _her_ friend. Hermione and Draco and Ron were _her _friends. They were under _her_ protection and as such they were under _Moratorium's_ protection.

And Moratorium did not take well to the fact this fool dared attack someone under his protection. He was a vengeful thing and would not tolerate it. The fool would pay—with his life. Moratorium snarled at the idiot.

Harry's eyes narrowed into cold fury and she launched herself forward, her hand clenched into a fist. She slammed her fist against the contorted face, feeling a sort of sick satisfaction at the shriek of pain that came from it. White light poured from where she hit the once Dark Lord and the pedophile screamed in agony.

Moratorium and Harry realized together that their touch hurt their enemy. So they did the only sensible thing.

They threw themselves at the fool and began pounding away at them. "Don't—EVER—touch—MY—allies—YOU—piece of—"

However, the rest of Harry's sentence was lost to the world, as she instead chose to let out a string of curses that would had even Draco blushing, just as the doors to the hospital wing flew open and all the professors—along with Dumbledore—barreled in.

Harry was panting with rage at how her victim gave away too easily. A sort of black vapor rose up from the body, the face still on it.

_"You will pay for what you have done today, Harry Potter!"_

"GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE VOLDEWHORE!"Harry shrieked, grabbing the nearest thing—a pillow—and throwing it at the vapor.

Dumbledore's eyes widened and his face contorted with rage. "**BEGONE FROM THIS PLACE, TOM RIDDLE!**"

And the vapor was gone with a shriek of pain and the promise of revenge.

Harry was still breathing heavily before she shakily stood up.

She glowered at the spot the pedophile once was before she looked up at the bewildered—and some horrified—faces of the professors.

"I request a cup of hot chocolate," she said, her voice clipped.

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

Hermione huddled next to Harry, the girl was a little shaken from the ordeal, but she was otherwise okay. The two girls sat on a single bed, both sipping hot chocolate. Draco sat next to Hermione and Ron next to Harry. All of them were under a single blanket as they patiently waited for their parents—well, not Harry's parents or guardians, of course—to arrive. Only when they did were they going to tell exactly what happened.

Not to mention Amelia Bones along with a few Aurors were coming—but they were already there so the students were only waiting for the parents.

When the parents arrived, Draco rushed from the bed and into the arms of a very beautiful young woman. Her eyes were wide with clear relief as she checked over her boy. A man, who Harry assumed to be Draco's father, even allowed a tight smile of relief as he watched his son.

Hermione's parents closely held their daughter on the bed—Harry and Ron moved. Ron was embraced by a frantic mother and a very relieved father.

Harry opted to sit next to the gentle elderly man by the name of Dumbledore.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" she whispered, trying her best not to draw the attention of others. Dumbledore's eye twinkled and he gave her a very warm smile, moving from his own spot on a separate bed. Harry sat down, frowning when she felt a brush of her mental shields. But it was but a brush and no one tried to delve any further.

Narcissa—Draco's mother—straightened her back and eyed each of the teachers before her eyes landed on Snape. Snape gave a small incline of his head and she nodded back.

"Would someone explain to me what happened?" she asked, holding Draco closely.

The four students exchanged looks before Draco opted to speak.

"We were going to pull a prank on the ped—Professor Quirrel."

"A prank?" Lucius—Draco's father—repeated, clearly in disdain.

Draco flushed and promptly averted his father's gaze. "Yes. He… we thought he tried to kill Harry… at the Quidditch game."

"And you didn't tell any of us?" McGonagall asked, clearly perplexed.

"How?" Ron asked, the frantic panic and fear he felt before leaving him snippy and snide. "What were we supposed to say? Hey, Professor! Even though we're only a bunch of kids we're pretty sure one of your own colleagues—you know the weak and seemingly harmless one—tried to kill us! Mind if you get rid of him?"

McGonagall frowned at that, but did not question further.

"So we were hoping to just… you know," Ron trailed off.

"We came up here," Hermione picked up when no one else continued. "And… and we had a plan. Ron and Draco were going to fight and… and I was going to get a teacher… Harry was supposed to…"

"Jelly his legs, and stuff," Ron muttered.

"While he was distracted by Ron and me," Draco continued. "But then…"

"Then I saw he didn't have a turban on," Harry said. "And I saw there was a face on the back of his head. And I just… sort of… recognized him."

"You recognized the Dark Lord?" Amelia asked sharply, frowning slightly as she eyed the child before her.

Harry shrugged helplessly. "His voice. I knew it. I've dreamed about it. I don't really know how else to explain—my subconscious perhaps? But I recognized it. And then he ordered the ped—_professor_—to kill us."

"He tried to fire a curse at me—Avada Kedavra," Hermione whispered. Her mother frowned and placed a gentle kiss on top of her head.

"Draco practically tackled her out of the way," Harry said.

Draco flushed. "I did not. I thought it was aiming at me, so I dived."

Ron snorted at this. "Same results in the end. Then Harry…"

"I got mad," Harry said. "So I punched Lord Voldewhore."

"Lord _what_?" Lucius hissed.

Harry frowned, blinking and looked up at the mixture of faces—shock, horror, amusement and confusion (on Hermione's parents). "What? That's his name, isn't it?"

"It is Volde_mort_," Dumbledore clarified.

"Volde_lort_?"

"Mort."

"Hort?"

"Mort."

"I think I'll just stick to Voldewhore."

"Why?" Draco asked incredulously.

"Well, he is kind of a power slut, isn't he?" Harry asked.

The three students paused to consider this while the adults looked positively horrified, though a few looked amused. Amelia and her Aurors—Shacklebolt and Moody—along with Dumbledore looked _very_ amused.

"You know… now that you think about it…" Ron mused.

"The Dark Slut," Harry said.

"The Slut-That-Must-Not-Be-Named," Draco said with a cocky grin.

"Draco," Lucius said sharply, considerably pale.

Draco's grin slipped, but anyone could clearly see his opinion didn't change.

"As you were saying, Potter," Dumbledore said softly, smiling.

"Oh… yes… well, so after I punched him, he started burning. Light was coming out and he was in some serious pain. So I just… well, he just became my punching bag."

"You used… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named… as a punching bag," Amelia said slowly.

"The Dark Slut, you mean," Harry clarified. "Fear of the name only increases the fear of itself, and yes. I was quite angry."

The adults exchanged looks around the room.

But Harry didn't mind. She won and none of the adults seemed upset by this. Not to mention she didn't feel anyone try her Occlumency Shield again.

All in all, she was content again.

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

Only when the entire drama of the professor finally died down did Harry deem it safe enough to continue her communication with Marwyn. He had, it seemed, found her the correct sort of people for the work required for the Owls and as such, Harry would be relaying him instructions on exactly how to put them into use…

Hermione cleared her throat, pulling Harry away from her gleeful musings. The four students were currently sitting under a very nice shady spot in the very nice weather.

The three other students looked over to the bushy haired girl.

"Whether it was or wasn't intentional, I believe I owe you, Draco, a thank you."

Draco blinked in surprise before flushing. "You owe me no such thing! It was self-preservation, I tell you."

Ron and Harry exchanged looks.

"Why are you so adamant about not admitting that you saved a friend's life?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Because she's a Mudblood!"

As soon as the words left his lips, Draco realized his mistake. Ron tensed and scowled furiously and Hermione blinked her watery eyes furiously. Only Harry remained unaffected.

"So?" Harry asked lazily. "Ron, relax. And 'Mione, you shouldn't get upset over a silly word like that."

Ron shot Harry a disbelieving look, along with Draco and Hermione frown.

"You should be proud," Harry said. "So what if you're not a pureblood at the moment? You're you and you shouldn't let some old word hurt you. I wouldn't. I'm proud to say I'm half Mudblood. Sounds a lot cooler than pureblood anyway—that just sounds incestuous."

Draco flushed at the insinuation and Hermione gave a small smile.

"You're right. I _am_ a Mudblood but… but I don't care," Hermione said firmly. "I'm still a…"

"A bright young wizard with a knack for spells," Harry said.

"A girl who's really nice with animals," Ron piped.

The three students glanced at Draco who was still flushing. He cleared his throat. "Oh alright… and who's… _okay_ with… potions."

Hermione smiled while Ron and Harry chortled.

Draco gave a definite '_harrumph!'_ before turning away and continuing on his homework.

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

Harry giggled with glee as she read the first batch of blackmail she had received from her Owling idea. One more batch and she would have to end it—least she draw too much attention too soon—but so far she had dirt on nearly all the purebloods in Britain—and a few in Germany and Russia.

Harry felt a beaming smile on her face. Marwyn was proving to be most useful and now that Moratorium had a firmer toe in the water, she felt it safe to begin the expansion. She would need to bring a few closer workers. The Matron at the brothel would be one.

The Matron would be useful, picking up all sorts of juicy information from the clients her girls (and a few boys) serve. Another would have to be the bartender for Moratorium's bar, for the same reasons of wonderful information that idiotic drunks might slip up.

Yes, yes… she would set up a meeting with each of them over the summer and secure their loyalty. Perhaps offer them a higher percentage? Yes… that would do it. By then she could cut the Owling business and have Marwyn… cut the loose ends.

It would do no good to have potential workers that could blab about how she obtained this information. No, no good at all.

Loose ends just simply had to be cut.

* * *

**(****◡‿◡✿****)**

* * *

Harry dove down sharply, her broom obeying her so well as she hurtled herself toward the fast moving golden ball. It was the last game for the year and if she caught the snitch now—her house would win. But of course she would catch it, she was the _good golden girl_. Couldn't have her reputation ruined. No, no...

The Ravenclaw's Seeker struggled to keep up with her on their school broom, but Harry's broom was faster. Harry twirled through the air, her arm outstretched and she leaned forward. Her fingers brushed against the snitch—

She grabbed it, a triumphant grin on her face as she held it up high for all to see.

"And Harry's caught the snitch—GRYFFINDOR WINS THE CUP!"

Her teammates howled with cheer around her as she landed, as did the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff bystanders that watched the display. McGonagall seemed positively beaming (and a bit smug) from her spot.

Oliver Wood was crying with tears of happiness as he picked Harry up and twirled her around. The fanatic Captain was babbling with joy and even Harry couldn't muster up the annoyance that usually came with him. Her face was already starting to hurt from grinning so wide.

This turned out to be a very nice year.

She thought of her exploits and Moratorium.

And next year would prove to be even better.

_Wonderful_.

* * *

**(****‿⊙✿****)**

* * *

_**IT'S NOT COMPLETE. SORTA.**_

_Even though it says complete... it kind of isn't. As you can see, this is only the first year. I might leave it as a one-shot, or I might add the years. If I do, I will add one full year at a time like this chapter, but in the mean time, this story stays as a one-shot._

_I do hope you enjoyed this story, and there is a very specific reason why the hat humored Harry in placing her in Gryffindor. Can you guess her 'obsession'? I did put hints of it in here, so I'm curious to see if you can._

_Reviews are __**love**__!_

**_Edit:_**_ Many years ago, I read a FanFiction that had a similar idea. Because it wasn't on my computer or on my phone and I didn't even have an account, I wasn't able to find it ever again. It was a once in a lifetime thing. I am told that my idea is similar to someone 'esama'. I don't recognize the name, but it could be the same FF I read all that time ago._

_Let me make this clear: If I have a similar reference, I'm sorry. However, my story will be diverting VERY differently by fourth year (as well as third year, now that I think about it), so please treat it as a different story. I know for certain my story isn't the first one to do something like this, and it isn't going to be the last. It's okay to have similar ideas, so long as they branch out and you make them your own. Otherwise OC's would be pretty much banned from existence and Self-Inserts would be nonexistent. :P_


	2. Chamber of Secrets

_**Disclaimer: **I own only my ideas._

**_Warning:_**_ Less than morally acceptable thoughts and implied things. Death. Etc, etc._

**_Beta:_**_ I do have a beta picked out, but this is the unbeta-d version. The edited version will be posted whenever my beta is ready. _

* * *

Harry was sitting in her bed in her new room, reading over her latest letter. She had a very busy summer, very busy indeed! At the start of her summer, her letters didn't seem to be getting through on her usual owl, so she used strictly mirrors for the most part and occasional flooing. She would floo to a designated spot to pick up her mail that was for Moratorium and bring it back… home.

_Although, I wouldn't really call this a home._

Downstairs, she could hear her pathetic cousin greet the family and she gave a tired sigh.

Then there was a pop and a strange creature—a House Elf-popped up on her bed, looking up at her.

She stared at him.

He stared at her.

"Who are you?"

His eyes widened and he bowed his head immediately. "Dobby is sorry, Miss Harry Potter ma'am! Dobby does not mean to startle Miss Harry Potter, ma'am."

"You didn't startle me," She assured him. "… Dobby, was it? Can I offer you a…?"

"Misses Harry Potter ma'am is offering Dobby something!" Dobby squealed, huge, fat tears leaking from his eyes. "Oh, Dobby is so honored—"

"Shush," Harry said sharply. "I have guests. It would be rude if you made a ruckus and displease me greatly. Please refrain from making too much noise."

"Oh," Dobby squeaked quietly. "Dobby is sorry—Dobby will punish—"

"No," Harry snapped, her patience wearing thin. "Please. Just tell me why you are here."

"Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts," Dobby said severely. "Harry Potter is in mortal danger there."

Harry stared at him, her mind wheeling. Moratorium problem or was it really Harry Potter problem? Must be Potter—she was sure no one knew her identity so soon and Moratorium hadn't made enough powerful enemies over a mere summer to question Potter's safety, yet. The only enemy Harry Potter had that would cause physical lethal body harm would be Voldewhore, so the problem was more than likely related to him.

But he was banished from the castle in a vaporous form and as such could not return to the castle in such a form—possessed or otherwise. Therefore he would be returning to the castle as something, or someone, quite different.

The fact that Dobby warned her of this implied he knew exactly who and what form the Dark Slut would be taking. The only way Dobby would know was if Voldewhore was his master—or one of Voldewhore's fanatics were Dobby's master.

Again more than likely Dobby was a fanatic's master. Improbable that Voldewhore would have an unfaithful servant—he would have more than likely killed the elf had that been the case.

So, a fanatic who would be able to somehow pull strings and insert a dangerous artifact or person into the school without a.) drawing attention b.) be questionable and c.) in case of emergency situation could 1.) pull back easily and 2.) have enough sway to keep from falling.

That limited the options significantly. Now Dobby could be contacting her for a number or reasons. He could simply be a fan of Harry Potter or he could be in the service of one of her… friends. And her friend could have sent him here as a way to indirectly warn her.

The latter option was possible, but less likely. She doubted the fanatic would have allowed his child to catch wind of such a plot. But it wasn't impossible…

Following that train of thought which of her friends would possessed a House Elf?

Draco.

But she highly doubted Draco's father, or mother, would let him in on the plan. Draco simply wouldn't be able to hold in such a secret. Not to mention he didn't have the heart to kill. Not directly, at least.

But just to play it safe she asked, "Do you belong to the Malfoy Family?'

The reaction was almost comedic. His eyes got real wide and his mouth dangled open. "Misses Harry Potter ma'am—how did you—?"

"Just a guess," Harry assured him, her mind already working through the information. So the fanatic was Draco's father or mother (his grandfather was dead, and he had no other living family under the Malfoy name).

Lucius Malfoy or Narcissa Malfoy.

Lucius the politician, rumored Death Eater, pulled out quickly, financially and politically influential.

Narcissa Malfoy, wife of Lucius…. Not much else noted about her.

Of the two, Harry made the safe assumption the plan belonged to Lucius.

"Okay," Harry said, her thoughts still working furiously as she tried to work through many scenarios. "I thank you for this information, but I will still be attending."

Dobby appeared horrified. "You mustn't…!"

"Dobby, you know the threat of Voldewhore, yes?" Harry asked.

Dobby nodded his head furiously, seemingly not noticing the incorrect name.

"And Lucius is setting up a trap for me at the school, yes?" Harry continued. At his nod, he continued. "So shouldn't I spring the trap and learn more from it? Shouldn't I continue my education to better protect myself against the Dark Slut, while also gleaming information from one of his former fanatics?"

Dobby's eyes wide and his mouth dropped open.

"Not to mention the trap will spring even if I'm not there," Harry guessed. "So shouldn't I go there to better protect the students…? Isn't that my duty and obligation, seeing how this trap was only being created because of me?"

Dobby seemed stuck between horror and admiration.

"Think about it," Harry suggested. "But regardless of your choice, I will attend Hogwarts."

Dobby gave a small nod.

"By the way… have you been stealing my mail?"

Dobby only nodded guiltily.

"Please return it to me then before you take your leave. I must consider my next course of action."

Dobby gave another nod and when he left, Harry rolled her eyes.

He's lucky that Moratorium doesn't need to use owls anymore.

Harry paused, though, considering what Dobby had just confirmed for her.

A new year, though? Already things are proving to be most… delicious… in my part as Moratorium. And yet now I face another school year with promises of more risks and thrills and a mystery to boot.

Harry felt her lips curl into a smile.

Oh… just… wonderrrful.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

The bars and brothels had been set up all over the world, thanks to Moratorium's current right hand man, Marwyn. The blond Italian assassin had proved most useful as a messenger, and as such Moratorium had grown rather fond of his tool. He would almost regret having to cut the loose end, but really, the man could only be so useful.

The casinos had gone up next over the summer, proving once again to be a rather large success. Moratorium was very nearly rolling around in riches. Moratorium's next business would be establishing his own… force; the mercenary and assassin's guild to be more precise. Marwyn had called forth his own bosses—the ones that trained him—and with Moratorium's guidance, each one began picking out members in each guild.

The mercenary guild would be a more… _facial_ guild. They would be set up all over the world, one for every bar, casino and brothel together in a city. They would be the first layer of 'guards' Moratorium employed. They would be the grunts. Moratorium wouldn't rely too much on them, with the exception of maintaining order at his established businesses and hiring a handful of them out.

The assassin's guild would be far more… exclusive. Moratorium quite liked assassins. Perhaps he had spent too many times daydreaming about them or reading and playing games about them and was clearly biased, but he just couldn't resist having a guild for them. They would be closer to Moratorium, his… more higher-ranked employees. They would be stationed in one area, the area Moratorium intended to make as one of his own personal bases, a small island resting between Japan and China, cloaked with enough charms and magic to remain hidden. Moratorium had spent quite bit of his money paying for the security on that island, but it was well worth it.

The guild itself would be housed in the center of the island, high atop its tallest mountain. It would serve as training grounds for the recruits as well. The guild would be compromised of both young and old. More senior assassins had been hired, tasked with training the new recruits, and there would be fresh ones as well. The youngest were nearly children, in fact.

How that came to be was a rather sad story. Moratorium didn't care too much for slavery—it was barbaric, plain and simple—but he knew all too well that it was still carried out in the world. He also knew that it would be damn near impossible to put a full halt to. Not that that would stop Moratorium from trying. There was just something about the thought of limited freedom—or no freedom—that wrinkled Moratorium the wrong way. Perhaps it was the fact that his own childhood consisted of caged freedom, an illusion of it, put upon for show by the neighbors to prove that they were a perfectly normal family. When in fact, they were anything but.

He bought quite a bit of them and offered them two choices. One, they would join the assassin's guild and work for him, or two they would be shipped off to the nearest orphanage and live on their life in blissful ignorance. The majority chose the orphanage, of course.

In fact, only five chose the guild. And so the guild they left for and their training began. The youngest, if Moratorium could recall, was actually thirteen. Just a year older than Harry Potter. Of those five, none of them were Muggles. Whether Moratorium simply lucked out or Fate played a hand, he didn't know and he didn't care too much to find out.

The guilds were scheduled to be up and running by the time Harry Potter finished her second year, and when that occurred Moratorium had every intentions of cutting off his loose ends.

It would be a while longer before Moratorium would feel more comfortable with establishing an inner circle. He still had more things to set up, of course.

More plans to bring into light.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Harry moved about Diagon alley, her eyes roaming through the massive crowd. She had come on her own, shortly finishing a meeting with Marwyn about the final touches in her latest scheme as Moratorium, before deciding to do some shopping. The streets seemed busier than usual and she had some difficulty maneuvering through the crowd. Thankfully, though, the crowd didn't seem to really pay much attention to her—focused solely on whoever or whatever was in the bookstore.

"Harry?"

Harry stopped in her tracks, glancing back to find Ron and a sea of red behind him heading towards her. Harry raised a delicate eyebrow as she stared at the mass before giving a short bow when the woman—clearly the mother—reached her.

"Madam," Harry demurred smoothly before straightening up.

"Oh, look at you. Ronnie's told us so much about you," the woman—Molly, if Harry could remember correctly—said, smiling.

"Hey there, Harry," Fred interjected, ruffling up Harry's hair, much to her annoyance.

"How've you been?" George asked, mimicking Fred's action. Harry shot them both a mild glare of annoyance.

"Why haven't you mailed us anything?" Ron blurted out.

"My mail was on the fritz. It seems I didn't receive any mail over the summer," Harry said calmly. "Hello to you, too, Ron, Fred, George. And you must be Molly, a pleasure to make your acquaintance… which makes, you, Ginny."

Harry gave a smile to the awe-struck girl.

Another fan girl, Harry concluded as Ginny blushed brightly. Harry had a fairly large fan club back at Hogwarts, consisting of both boys and girls. They were relatively harmless and meant well, so Harry didn't mind them so much.

"H-Hello Harry," Ginny breathed.

"And what might you guys be doing? Shopping?" Harry guessed.

"That's right. We're just about to pick up our books," Rob answered. "Wanna tag along?"

"I suppose I might as well."

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

_ Lucius is about a subtle as a train on fire_, Harry thought to herself as she sat down on the train booth. Not even a week after the whole Gilderoy-incident, Harry still couldn't believe it. Did he actually think no one would see him place that book in Ginny's cauldron?

Harry was sorely tempted to grab the book right then and there, but dismissed it soon after. If she did that, odds were she wouldn't be able to find out just what Dobby was so concerned about. She wanted to see what Lucius could do. She wanted to test him.

After all, every bad girl(boy) had a rival. And it was quite clear that Volde-whatever wouldn't be up for it while he was so vaporous and useless, so perhaps Lucius could prove interesting.

If not, well, there was always next year.

Erk. Not to mention the whole Lockhart thing. Harry had to admit he was a rather handsome man—too golden and cheesy for her taste—but he was such… such a tool, it physically pained her to be near him. She knew all about him. Moratorium had dug up quite a bit of dirt on the man, and she had to respect him in some aspects. To acquire all that fame and glory… on one spell? The man was damned good at publicity. And it was with that in mind that Harry decided to give the man a sporting chance. After all, it would only bring her public image up if she were to befriend him. And perhaps she could garner a few tips on publicity from the man.

The door to her cart opened and Hermione stepped in, rolling her eyes. "Idiots. I'm surrounded by idiots."

"Dear, I take offense to that," Harry chided.

Hermione gave Harry an unamused smile, taking a seat across from her. "I meant the boys. All I suggested was a brief glance over the textbooks and all of a sudden they start whining—why are boys so immature?"

"Hormones?" Harry guessed.

Hermione snorted. "Anyway, have you seen your schedule, yet?"

Harry dug out into her pocket, pulling out the neatly folded paper and handing it to Hermione. She glanced over it, smiling and nodding. "Wonderful! We'll be taking the same classes together. I can't wait for Pre-Ancient Runes. It's supposed to be a rather instigating class."

"I'm sure it will be," Harry said patiently. The class was something both Harry and Moratorium were interested in. Runes were ancient and very powerful things that very few wizard and witches could work well with and recognize. Who knows how beneficial they could prove to be?

Harry paused, carefully mulling over her next words. "Hermione? I'm wanting to form a club, would you care to be interested in joining?"

"That depends on what it's about," Hermione replied.

"I had… talked briefly with Hagrid over the summer about it," Harry replied, smiling in amusement at her giant friend. "I was thinking of an informational club for magical creatures. You know, something where we could really learn about them and not just in class. The class, afterall, only covers the very basics and I'm fairly interested in all the creatures they wouldn't cover. I think it would prove to be most educational, don't you?"

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Oh! That sounds wonderful. I always wanted to learn more about a few creatures, but the only books on them are in the restricted section… Are you certain Hagrid won't mind indulging us?"

"Not at all," Harry demurred. "In fact, he seemed positively thrilled."

Hermione beamed. "Wonderful! I would love to join. Where do I sign up?"

"No need. Due to the nature of the club… I thought it would be best if we kept it relatively small. Only those that are truly interested in it should join," Harry said plainly.

"You don't want your fanclub to join?" Hermoine teased.

"No," Harry admitted bluntly.

After all, it's become quite clear how heavily the magical world relies on its creatures. The tests to the stone was composed of two creatures out of six stages. That's one-third of the entire guard! By knowing more about these creatures, handling them in the future will be vastly easier, not to mention I could, someday, use some of the more dangerous ones in my care in the future. The more I know about them, the better.

"Do you think we should invite Ron and Draco?" Hermione asked.

"No and no," Harry said firmly. "Ron is terrified of spiders and Hagrid mentioned some spider-like creatures, Draco holds little care and respect for mythical creatures in general so hippogriffs and gryphons would be lethal to the boy."

Hermione nodded, accepting this. "Fair enough. Who else will be joining, then?"

Harry shrugged. "I did talk to Neville, and he mentioned he would consider it. He's scared of a fair few creatures, but he admitted he wanted to get over his fears and he believes this might be the best chance. I believe he mentioned something about his biggest fear was the unknown variables he knew about the creatures."

"He'll probably join," Hermione said toughtfully.

"Perhaps."

"So… did you not receive any letters I sent…?"

"Funny story, actually…"

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Harry stared at the shrieking plant in her hands. She continued to stare at it for a few more moments before glancing at Ron, who had partnered up with her, and shrugged. Ron snickered—though Harry couldn't hear it due to her earmuffs—and handed her the pot. She squashed the baby in the bucket while Ron poured soil and dirt all over it. Patting it down, she glanced about to see everyone else finishing up theirs as well.

Mandrakes were… interesting. Disgusting things, really, but interesting. Moratorium was quite interested to see exactly how much damage one could do if attached to a megaphone and thrown into Gringotts.

… That would be interesting.

The next class (Transfiguration) went smoothly as well, then was lunch and after that DADA, but as Harry and co. were leaving the hall, Colin intercepted them.

Blushing brightly he asked, "Uh—Harry? Harry Potter?"

"Yes?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow and ignoring Draco's whine of disgust while Hermione and Ron snickered.

"May—I mean, if it wouldn't be too much trouble—haveapictureofyouandyouautographit?"

Harry blinked, having to take a moment to process his words. "… I don't see the harm in that. Would you care to be in the picture, as well, Misère… Creevey, was it?"

Colin blushed brightly. "Oh, no thank you! I'm more of a photo-taker than a, uh… well, you know."

"You're seriously going to indulge him?" Draco snorted.

"Don't be jealous, dear. You're welcome to join in on the picture as well," Harry cooed condescendingly.

Draco scowled at her.

Harry smiled brightly into the camera adding a wink, just to annoy Draco even more so, at Colin. When the picture came out, she signed it with his pen. "Is that all?"

"Yes!" Colin squeaked. Harry eyed the photo after another moment, mulling over her thoughts.

"You're quite good, a natural I say," Harry commented.

Colin ducked his head in embarrassment. "Oh, I wouldn't—"

"How about you handle all of my pictures?" Harry offered.

"What? But I couldn't!"

Ron laughed and Hermione giggled while Draco face-palmed.

_After all, the only reason Harry Potter wasn't in the media, was because Dumbledore has managed to convince the public she was too young and would feel too uncomfortable with all the publicity,_ Moratorium reasoned._ It would be in both of our best interest if Harry Potter had some control over what went out about her, having her own photographer would give her some say in what pictures went about. After all, if she states very plainly only photos used by her photographer would be approved by her, any photo unapproved by her would be seen as slander and put the media in a bad frame. It wouldn't do to slander the public's darling, would it? Now all she needed was an influential reporter and she was set._

"I'll pay you," Harry offered.

"No—I couldn't!"

"I will," Harry said firmly. "As such, you will be my official photographer. I will pay you, making it an actual job."

And it was always best to have an employee wrapped around your little finger. Who better than a fanboy?

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Harry stared in disbelief at the test.

… Really? Really?

Harry stood up from her seat, ignoring the curious looks she was given.

How could someone so stupid be so popular? Harry looked up at Lockhart, unabashedly staring at his face and scrutinizing him. Is he… Was he some sort of publicity prodigy in that manner? That he could wrap them around his little finger, despite being such a moronic narcissist?

Harry then moved from her desk, towards Lockhart and bent down low to whisper, "A moment of your time, privately please, sir."

Lockhart beamed at her. "But of course, my dear girl! Come we can talk in my office."

He lead her away in the office and Harry ignored the quiet moans of Draco and Ron—and quite a few other boys in the classroom—with practiced ease. When they entered the office, she carefully shut the door, tilted her head and said in the sweetest voice she could manage, "You're not very good at DADA, are you, Professor?"

"Why, whatever do you mean—"

Harry smiled prettily at him, being sure to keep up her good girl charade. "Please, Professor, I'm not an idiot. But I don't quite understand how you're so popular. I've never been very good at the press, you see. I always get so tongue-tied."

_ A complete and utter lie, of course, but with a hint of truth. I could very well handle myself with others, and I knew perfectly well how to manipulate them… But I am not so big-headed to say I was perfect at it. I had never had direct contact with the press and I know full well that the press is always a crucial thing in society. I will need to know how to fully handle them and if this idiot is good for anything… it's how to manipulate the press in his favor._

Ever since Moratorium discovered Lockhart's nasty secret, he had been musing of ways to take advantage of it. The moment he figured out how he could _learn _from Lockhart, how _Harry _could learn from him, he began researching of ways to persuade Lockhart. And, after considering just how useless Lockhart would be in every other field, Moratorium went ahead and paid an undergraduate witch to write out a lesson plan that would suit Lockhart and Harry rather well.

Lockhart gave her a thoughtful and appraising look. "Understandable, of course. It takes practice, you see."

"And someone willing to teach," Harry pointed out. "You're not very good at DADA. I made sure to do a background check on all of my new professors, you must have heard what happened last year. Headmaster Dumbledore was kind of enough to humor me—" and Moratorium had some nice leads of his own "—and I know you nearly failed DADA, three times."

Lockhart's smile became more strained. "I… see."

"So I want to propose a deal," Harry went on cheerily. "I want to learn the ropes about publicity, you see. And in exchange, I will write out a teaching plan for your DADA classes, so you don't look like a complete idiot anymore."

Lockhart's smile dropped entirely and he seemed far more calculating than what Harry would have thought possible for the man. "A sly little one, aren't you?"

Harry only smiled.

Moratorium, of course, will be keeping an eye on you to make sure you behave. You may be good with memory charms, but you aren't the best, fool.

"A deal, then," Lockhart murmured, musing it over. "Well, it would be good publicity for both of us... very well."

Harry opened her cloak, reaching into one of her enchanted pockets and pulling out a piece of paper. "That's the lesson plans for today. I will begin making up more right away."

Lockhart glanced over it, frowning for a moment before he chuckled. "You actually figured out a way to incorporate my books."

"Of course," Harry demurred. "The majority of the students wouldn't be able to get any new texts for this class, so it would be pointless not to use them. Even if you did or did not actually perform the things in the books, they are legitimate spells and techniques. Odds were, at least someone did them."

"Mm… We can discuss more later, of course."

"Of course," Harry said, smiling prettily again. "Thank you so much, Professor! I look forward to learning all the ropes."

_ And when you're done, I'm afraid you'll have to pass off in a tragic accident and the public will cry and mourn for you and feel such pity for his devoted student… Harry Potter._

_ I may not work well with the press, but I do know the basics._

And as Harry turned away from the thoughtful and oblivious Lockhart, her smile took a nastier turn.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Harry was seriously considering offing off Oliver.

_The sun has not even risen. Why in the hell should I have?_

She glared daggers at Oliver, leaning heavily on Fred, who was leaning heavily on George, who was leaning heavily on… you get the picture. When the sun had finally decided to rise up to the world, Oliver had finally finished his lecture and the team was just about to start practice when…

"I don't believe it!" Oliver hissed in outrage. "I booked the field for today! We'll see about this."

Oliver shot toward the group, the team right behind him.

"Flint!" Oliver bellowed at the Slytherin Captain. "This is our practice time, we got up specially for it. You can clear off now!"

Flint gave Oliver a sneer. "Plenty of room for all of us, Oliver."

"But I booked the field!" said Oliver, positively spitting with rage at this point. "I booked it!"

"Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. '_I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker._'"

"You've got a new Seeker?" asked Oliver, a dubious expression on his face. "Where?"

Draco stepped forward, grinning ear-to-ear.

Harry gave him a mildly annoyed look.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" asked Fred, looking at Draco with dislike.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father," said Flint as the whole Slytherin team smiled more broadly. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

All seven of them held out their broomsticks. Seven highly polished, brand-new handles and seven sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One gleamed under the Gryffindors.

"Very latest model. Only came out last month," said Flint, smirking. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleasweeps, the ones the school uses, sweeps the board with them."

"You bought your way on your team?" Harry asked, turning towards Draco with a raised eyebrow. Draco frowned, about to say something when Harry continued, "Nicely done. You do your House proud, I'm sure."

Draco beamed.

"But, excuse me, Misère Flint? May I see that note for a moment?" Harry asked sweetly, holding out her outstretched hand. Flint eyed her another moment before he nodding, placing the note in her hand. Harry did an exaggerated effort of examining the note before she nodded her head in an accepting way. She then held up her wand and set the note on fire.

"What are you doing?" Flint screeched as Harry dropped the—now ashes, really—note to the ground.

"Well," Harry said rather condescendingly to the boy, "it appears to me that you have no note. And seeing how we reserved this with Professor Hooch—and I'm going to guess you hadn't shown her the note quite yet—as far as she's concerned we're the only team who should be using this field. If you do not scram now, we will be reporting you to Professor Hooch and you will face the standard penalty of interfering and attempt at sabotaging another team by banishment of the field for one month. Oh sure, you could go and get another note, but you'd have to wait four hours, am I right? After all, Professor Snape should be teaching his Advanced Doubles Potions class about now and interrupting that class for something as what he would deem as silly as Quidditch… well, I doubt he'd be too pleased with you. And by the time four hours is over with, we should be satisfied with our training."

The Slytherin group gaped at the still-smiling-sweetly girl another moment before Flint recovered and spat out, "Filthy half-mudblood!"

Harry gave him an unimpressed look. "You shame your house if that's the best comeback you can come up with. Now shoo. My sleep was interrupted and it damn well better be worth it, because if it wasn't because you were going to be idiots, there will be hell to pay."

Oliver beamed at Harry, shooting the Slytherins smug looks. "You heard the girl. Get out!"

Draco gave Harry an annoyed look. "Why weren't you put in Slytherin?"

"Because I'm far too nice, of course."

Draco suddenly looked like he was having a very difficult time trying not to laugh.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

"Enemies of the Heir, beware?" Harry quoted back to Draco. He nodded his head firmly.

"What the bloody hell does that mean?" Harry asked incredulously.

"It doesn't sound good," Ron muttered.

"But it is rather interesting… petrified, you say?" Hermione murmured.

Draco nodded again.

Could this have anything to do with…?

_More than likely._

How interesting.

"Oh!" Hermione squeaked. "Harry, we're going to be late for the meeting."

Harry's own eyes widened as she remembered and she nodded quickly. "See you later, boys."

Without waiting for a goodbye, the two girls hurried away.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Their meeting was with Magical Creatures Appreciation (MCA… The name was Hermione's idea) was actually their third one. Hagrid couldn't really bring animals in (yet!), so they mostly spent the time talking about them, with Hagrid even going off into a few lectures (if you could really call it that). Neville had indeed ended up joining, as did Fred and George. When questioned why, the twins merely pointed out the nefarious uses knowledge of the beasts could be used and no one questioned them again. The five (six with Hagrid) of them spent their meetings in Hagrid's hut.

"… Your… roosters are… they've been killed?" Harry concluded, rather dubiously.

"Dunno 'ow, but they 'ave," Hagrid said, nodding his head.

"When will you be getting more?" Hermione inquired.

"Dunno. Don' really need 'em right away, so I'm not in a 'urry," Hagrid replied, giving a small shrug. "More tea?"

"Yes, please," Neville said, smiling brightly.

"So what are we talking about this week?" Fred asked, he and George leaning towards Hagrid in anticipation.

"This week, I though' we'd talk abou' Dementors."

"Dementors…?" Harry trailed off, rolling over the name. "Sounds interesting."

Hagrid nodded his head, taking a seat. "They can be. Bu' they're very dangerous. I wouldn' even recommend one for a pet."

Harry suddenly became very interested in Dementors, she shifted her posture, her back straightening as she leaned forward.

And as Harry listened and questioned, the sun slowly began to dip down and soon enough it was time for them to head back to their dorms. However, as Harry left Hagrid' place that evening, she couldn't help, but think—

_I want one._

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

"Chamber of Secrets... Chamber of Secrets," Harry mused aloud, mulling over the words. "I think I want one."

"Of course you do," Draco snorted.

The two of them were in the library, Hermione was off and about of scrounging the library for more books and Ron was off doing… Whatever it was he was doing. Harry wasn't too sure, the boy only cringed at the thought of spending the afternoon in the library and pointedly ran away when Hermione turned around the corner.

Hermione set another stack of books at the table—that was twenty three now—and sat next to Harry, sighing. "I just don't understand. Why can't I find anything on the chambers?"

"Because Hogwarts is trying too hard to cover the whole thing up," Draco scoffed.

"What do you mean?" Harry and Hermione asked incredulously. The two exchanged glances after realizing they spoke in synch, before turning to give Draco curious looks.

"Even Father won't tell me anything," Draco muttered, "Of course, it was fifty years ago—the last time the Chamber was opened—so it was before his time, but he knows all about it, and he says that it was all kept quiet and it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it. But I know one thing—last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood _died_. So I bet it's a matter of time before one of them's killed this time."

"Statistically speaking, you're right," Harry said quietly, while Hermione looked down at her books somberly. Harry thought carefully, musing over her next course of action.

_As Harry Potter, I cannot allow a death in my own school. Not only would it hold the chance of the school being shut down, but it would also present Harry Potter in a less than stellar light. After all, if Harry Potter is _such a hero _and _good girl_, shouldn't she—should I—have prevented the death? I don't really care one way or another if someone dies personally, however if I want my long-time plans to work…_

"Then I suppose we better find a way to close the chamber," Harry concluded aloud.

"Oh? And how do you plan on doing that when we can't figure out what's attacking the students, or even where it is!" Hermoine muttered, her frustration at not finding the answers bubbling over.

"We just need to think carefully about this," Harry consoled, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Draco, you said it was opened fifty years ago, right? That someone died, correct? Well, why don't we look in older newspapers around fifty years ago? Surely the incident was reported."

"That's right," Draco said, his eyes widening. "I can't imagine it _not _being reported…"

Hermione looked calmer, having found a new lead to take on the Chamber. "Alright. I'll see if I can find something."

"In the meantime, Draco, Ron and I will see if we can find out exactly what's attacking the students."

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Harry carefully crept out of the Gryffindor dormitory, her invisibility cloak wrapped tightly around her. Harry kept her eyes narrowed as she scanned the dark hallways. It was the night after her latest Quidditch match and Harry was wide awake. She had awoken from the sound of _someone _leaving the girl's dormitory. Harry waited a moment or two to see if they would return, but when they hadn't, she grew… anxious.

Not anxious in the sense that she was _worried_, so much as she felt that something was about to happen.

And so, Harry left, intent on finding the girl.

_Kiiiillll._

Harry's eyes narrowed, her ears straining to hear the strange hissing words that seemed to echo around her.

Harry rounded another corner and her scar throbbed erratically. She had to bite back a groan, her hand flying up to her forehead. She stumbled a couple times, but continued on. She stopped short of Myrtle's bathroom. She hesitated a moment before entering.

"Myrtle?" Harry called out hesitantly.

"Mm? Who's there?"

"It's Harry. Is anyone else around?"

"Not for the moment, why can't I see you?"

Harry pulled off her cloak, draping it over a nearby sink.

Her scar throbbed again and her hands flew up to her forehead, she cringed.

"Harry? Harry what's wrong?" Myrtle asked worriedly, floating over to her.

"I—I—is anyone nearby, Myrtle? Anyone at all?" Harry hissed through clenched teeth.

Myrtle shook her head. "No, no… I'll check. Stay here."

Harry nodded her head, stumbling over to a nearby sink and attempting to turn on the faucent. When no water came out, Harry muttered under her breath, looking up at her reflection in the mirror.

"Blood?" Harry whispered, confused.

Her scar had _never _bled before.

"There's no one around, Harry. _You're bleeding!_"

"So I've noticed," Harry muttered, her eyes narrowing as her confusion doubled. "Something… Something must be wrong. It had only ever hurt when that man was…"

Harry trailed off, her eyes widening.

Voldewhore?

_But Dumbledore banished him. How could he have…?_

Harry's hands tightened around the sink and she felt herself growing angry. _He was _banished, _yet he dares to return here? After almost killing my allies! He dares!? But how? _

Harry let out a short breath. She needed to know if there were ways inside the school that perhaps no one knew about.

_Who better to know… than the masters of mischief? _

Harry cringed again when her scar throbbed and more blood trickled down.

_He must be near, but Myrtle didn't see anyone…_

"Myrtle," Harry breathed out slowly, "do you know if there are any secret compartments near here? A secret tunnel, perhaps?"

"No, no; nothing of the sort," Myrtle said slowly. "Although… No, no; nothing I can clearly remember."

"Let me know if you remember anything," Harry murmured, grabbing her cloak. "I… I will see you later."

"Harry?"

"Mn?"

"Perhaps you should talk to Dumbledore."

"What?"

"Your scar… it's not a natural scar. I can _feel _it. For some reason… the energy behind it is almost familiar to me," Myrtle said slowly, as if she herself was still trying to process what she was saying. "The fact that it's bleeding for no reason… it can't be good. That scar is one of a kind, you won't be able to find out why it's bleeding on your own. Dumbledore is your best chance."

Harry shifted her stance, wrapping the cloak around her.

"Please, Harry," Myrtle said. "That scar bleeding can't mean anything good, and while I don't care if you live or die, I _do _care if you live or die _painfully_."

"… Very well, Myrtle. I will see if Dumbledore will speak to me," Harry promised.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

"Fred, George," Harry greeted, sitting in between both boys on the couch in the empty dormitory.

"Hey, Harry-kins," Fred and George returned. "What can we do for you?"

"I don't suppose you two know of any ways to sneak in or out of the school undetected?" Harry asked bluntly.

The twins exchanged glances.

"Well," George drawled out, "I suppose we have _some _ideas…"

"But we'll only show you them, _if_…"

"You tell us why you need them."

Harry gave them both annoyed glances. "… I am…"

Moratorium and Harry debated a moment on what reason to give. On one hand, if Harry answered honestly, she knew they would help her in a heartbeat, _however_, they might insist on telling their mother or father or some other adult. Harry really didn't want to involve any more people than necessary. She could lie and mention that she was only worried about Voldemort coming back in, but they might dismiss her worries and not answer her question because Dumbledore was still around. _Or _she could lie and mention that she wanted to sneak out of the castle for mischief of her own. That would not only garner their approval, but ensure their silence to anyone else.

"… I want to sneak out of the castle," Harry finished.

They exchanged glances.

"For what?"

"I am… looking for someone," Harry said.

"Looking for who?"

"No one you need to worry about," Harry sighed. "Look, will you, or will you not help me?"

"We will," Fred said. "After all, you _are _our friend."

Harry ignored her surprise, choosing instead to smile. "Thank you."

George stood up from the couch, hurrying off to the boy's dorms. When he returned, he held out a map. "Alright. This is…"

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

_So there was no way for Voldemort to sneak in, _Harry concluded. She was laying on her bed that night, thinking over her next course of action. _Undoubtedly, all those tunnels and passageways given must have been known by Dumbledore, so he must have secured those, too._

Harry muttered under her breath. _What an annoyance._

At least things were going well on Moratorium's side.

The next piece of business Moratorium was setting up was his own 'Magical Vegas'. Using the money he had earned through his… endeavors, Moratorium bought a _very _large piece of land. An island, in fact. The island was roughly the size of London and already buildings were being built and charms were being placed over it. Moratorium had every intentions of making his own paradise for the wicked. After all, Moratorium had no doubt that if someone could own Vegas—truly own it and everything inside of it—they would be _rolling _in money. His bars, casinos, and brothels were all a smashing hit. He thought he might as well expand upon it. He would be going into the hotel business next, setting up a luxurious resort on the island. He suspected that the island would be complete and ready for business—as in the majority of the buildings would be built and ready for business—by the end of Harry's second year.

He already had small and big business men wanting to rent out spaces in the island to build their own restaurants or malls or homes or _whatever _they wanted.

As soon as his island was ready and _booming, _he would begin to invite government officials. Hopefully he would be able to get them to do things regrettable that he could use as leverage into the corrupt government. Then he could start buying out the politicians, or hell, sending in his own men and women to take over the government. He anticipated sending the politicians to his island roughly during halfway in Harry's third year, perhaps a little later.

While his island was being built, Moratorium decided to buy yet another island (a smaller one, though) in which he was using the rest of his money to build the most luxurious (couple and family friendly, believe it or not) resort he could. He expected it to be ready for business by the beginning of Harry's third year.

The guilds were progressing nicely. Moratorium was correct in his estimation that the guilds would be up and running by the end of that year.

There was a soft knock on the door to the dorms.

Harry glanced up. "Yes?"

"Miss Potter, Dumbledore wishes to see you now."

"Coming."

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Harry sat across from Dumbledore, her Occlumency shields up and running as she stared at him.

"What can I do for you, Harry?" Dumbledore inquired.

Harry took a deep breath.

For one reason or another, Harry quite liked Dumbledore. Even though she hadn't had all that many encounters with him, she just felt as though she could _trust _him. That actually made her very wary of him and was why she was reluctant to involve him in the first place. She couldn't quite place her finger on it, but there was something _off _about him. Yet, at the same time it seemed like a _good _kind of off.

Harry knew Dumbledore was wise and powerful, and because of such, she really didn't want to risk lying to him and ruining her chance of an alliance with him.

"My scar was bleeding," Harry finally said.

Dumbledore blinked at her. "Excuse me, my dear?"

"I woke up one night—I thought I heard someone leaving the dormitory. I, uh, I left after them. It wasn't long afterwards that I started to—to, uh—hear things. I mean, I heard it before. Actually, it was on the night that Norris was petrified, but I thought nothing of it. However, when I started hearing it _again, _all alone… it felt… real. Like I wasn't just imagining it."

"What did you hear?" Dumbledore inquired, leaning forward, his eyes seeming to bore into hers.

"He was hungry," Harry blurted out.

Harry flushed, upon realizing what she had said. She herself didn't even realize that was what she thought until she said it outloud.

"The voice… Whoever was talking was _really _hungry and _really _old. That's all I know about the voice. Well, that and it sounded _weird. _It sounded like I was listening to a bigger version of a python."

"Excuse me?"

"When I was little," Harry explained, "we went to the Zoo. They had this _really _big python on exhibit and out of boredom, I started talking to it. Her. Sorry. I started talking to her as if she could understand me. I was only doing it to weird out my cousin because he was annoying me, and because I was just _that _bored. Anyway, she started talking back to me. It freaked me and my… _family_… out. I thought I was just hallucinating the entire thing, so I didn't think anything of it… However, after being in Hogwarts for so long, I just assumed that wizards and witches could do that."

"Not… all," Dumbledore said slowly. "What you did, Harry, was speak Parseltongue. It is an old language and only very few people can do it."

"… So… I can talk to snakes? Just me? No one else?"

"Well, Voldemort can, as well."

Harry's brow furrowed. "How come?"

"Because he is of Slytherin descent. Salazar Slytherin was a Parseltongue, the language is passed down hereditary under normal circumstances."

Harry paled. "Is Voldewhore my father?!"

"No, no. Only under _normal _circumstances is it hereditary. In your case, I suspect Voldemort unintentionally gave you that power when he gave you that scar," Dumbledore explained.

"Right. Back to the scar and my story. So, I was… listening to a _really _hungry and old snake when my scar started to hurt. _Very _badly. It's only ever hurt whenever Voldewhore is around, but at the time I didn't quite piece that together. I managed to find some place to rest and when I looked up in the mirror, my scar was bleeding and it was hurting even more than before. Why? Why was my scar bleeding? Why does it hurt whenever he's around? Why do I have some of his power? Why do I feel… Why do I feel—" _Why do I feel like there's a connection between the two of us? What does my scar have to do with this?_

"Why did Voldemort chose me? Out of all the families to personally kill… why mine?"

"Alas Harry, I cannot answer all of your questions…"

"Cannot or _will not_?"

Dumbledore only smiled serenely.

"Fine. What _will _you answer?"

"_I _believe the reason your scar hurts whenever you are around Voldemort, is for the same reason that your touch burned him last year."

"… Which is…?"

"It was love that saved you last year, your mother's love to be exact. She sacrificed herself to save you from Voldemort, and it is for that reason that Voldemort can never touch you. I suspect by your scar hurting, it is her way of warning you."

Bull shit.

"Love?" Moratorium couldn't help, but interject. "_Really_? How many other mothers have sacrificed their lives to protect their children—and how many of those attempts actually worked? What's the difference between _her _and _them_?"

Dumbledore smiled. "In time, I suspect we will find out."

Moratorium gave an inward snort while Harry looked contemplative.

"I suppose," Harry allowed. "You banished him, right?"

"Yes."

"So why does my scar hurt? It cannot hurt from generalized danger, because I was technically in danger several times before and it never bothered me. Only whenever Voldewhore was around. You say you banished him, so then how is he back in the castle?"

Dumbledore gave Harry a grave look. "I wish I knew, Harry. I wish I knew."

Harry gave a thoughtful look.

"… Thank you for your time."

"Always. Ah, would you care for a lemon—"

"No, thank you. I should be heading back to bed."

"Good night, then, Harry."

"Good night."

And as Harry left Dumbledore's office, she and Moratorium gave a mutual snort.

_What the hell is he hiding?_

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Harry sat beside Colin's beside, her eyes sharp as she scanned his petrified body again.

I've had just about enough with guessing.

_ What do we know about this so called monster?_

The monster was something only Salazar could control.

_Which is a lie, _Moratorium interjected. _If that was true, then it would mean Salazar himself was the one unleashing the beast, not the _heir. _An heir implies a lineage, a heritage. _

Okay. So the monster is a monster that can be controlled by only someone of Salazar's lineage. More than likely it's a monster that symbolizes Salazar himself, as well.

_Snake._

That's actually a no brainer.

_But which snake is it? It would have to be a snake that can petrify._

There are roughly ten different magical snakes that can petrify. What we need to consider is what snake can petrify and _kill—_doing both without making a mess?

Both fell into contemplative silence.

_Roosters, _Moratorium thought.

Harry's eyes widened. A Basilisk?!

_A Basilisk. _

How are we supposed to stop a damn Basilisk without—wait.

_How exactly is a _Basilisk_ getting around the school without anyone finding out?_

Harry gave a snort, standing up from Colin's bed side. "… There's only one other person I know who can figure _that _one out."

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

"A Basilisk? Are you sure?" Ron asked, his eyes wide.

"That would make sense. Slytherin would have nothing less than the king of snakes as a companion," Draco said. "But how _is _it getting around the school?"

The trio glanced over at Hermione who looked thoughtful. "… I'm not sure. Listen, though, I found the obituary about the student in an old newspaper. You won't believe who it was."

"Who and what?" Neville asked, stepping up to the table and sliding to sit beside Hermione.

Neville was a tentative alliance. Harry and Hermione both found themselves liking their time spent with Neville at the club—he was an interesting boy. A bit shy and goofy, but he meant well. At Hermione's request, he was brought into the quartet and as such, was brought up to speed about what the quartet was trying to do.

"The student who was killed by the… _Basilisk _fifty years ago… is none other than Moaning Myrtle!"

"No!" Ron gasped, even Draco seemed surprised.

Harry tilted her head curiously. "Really? Well then, perhaps she knows something."

"We can't just _ask _her. She's _Moaning Myrtle. _There's no way she'd cooperate with _us_."

"She and I are actually allies," Harry said plainly. "I'll ask her about it later."

"Good," Hermione said.

"Speaking of allies… Draco, do you have a House Elf?"

"Of course I do," Draco snorted. "Why?"

"I've met him."

_Twice, actually. The second time when he was trying to enchant a bludger, but I caught him—as I was checking over the equipment. It was an interesting conversation in which he pleaded he was only trying to keep me safe and it was there that I discovered just how devoted he was to me._

"… Really? Okay? So what?"

"I want him. How much for him?"

Draco blinked. "… What? Seriously?"

"Yes. I have money. I want him. How much?"

Draco shrugged. "I'll talk to Father about him."

"Excellent."

"… What's a House Elf?"

"A magical creature that's a servant," Harry explained. "They actually are able to obtain happiness and their magical through the bond of master and servant."

"Really?" Hermione asked dubiously. "Are they paid?"

"I _just _said they obtain happiness through serving. They _literally _cannot be happy if they do not serve. Their happiness and power _is _their payment."

"That's slavery!" Hermione gasped.

"No; it's not," Harry immediately disagreed. "It's just a different form of payment. Are you saying you can only work for _money_? That you can't work for favors or other things? Don't be so narrow-minded, Hermione."

Hermione flushed.

"She's right," Ron added. "They _love _to work. If they don't, they get _really _depressed."

Neville nodded in agreement. "My Grandmother has a House Elf, and they both seem pretty happy with the arrangement. Or as happy as Grandmother can get…"

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Harry gave another sigh of annoyance as she stood alongside Hermione and Ron in the gathering of other students at the supposed _Dueling Club. _

Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called, "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent! Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defriend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions—for full details, see my published works.

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry—you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"

Ron gave a sigh. "Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?"

Hermione shot him an annoyed look. "Come now, Professor Lockhart is actually a decent teacher and you know it. Can you name one lesson that's been _truly _useless?"

Ron muttered under his breath. "He's still a—whaddya call it, Harry? Narcissist? He's still a narcissist."

Hermione sighed and Harry chose not to respond.

Snape's upper lip was curling and Harry idly wondered if she was supposed to cheer for Lockhart in this occasion. While it was true he was giving her pointers on the press—some of them rather useful, actually—he wasn't exactly her favorite person in the world. If she were being completely honest with herself, she would be rooting for Snape.

Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them—as if they were about to fence.

"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

"What a pity," Moratorium muttered.

Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried out: "_Expelliarmus!_" There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet. He flew backwards off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down to a sprawl on the floor.

Malfoy and some of the other Slytherins cheered. Hermione was dancing on her tiptoes. She squealed through her fingers, "Do you think he's alright?"

Moratorium and Harry, however, were looking keenly at Snape.

Snape caught Harry looking at him and immediately Harry felt a brush on her mental shields. Her eyes narrowed and the probing quickly went away. Snape continued to hold Harry's gaze. Harry gave a slow, acknowledging nod in Snape's direction. Snape sneered.

_Even with all the books I can smuggle, we can't exactly practice the ones we want. There's no good place to practice spells without getting caught in Hogwarts, and there is _no _place back at that hovel those pigs refer to as a home, _Moratorium inwardly sighed. _What I wouldn't give for a good and proper teacher. _

Snape would certainly be an interesting private tutor. Maybe we could hire him? Harry mused, wanting to laugh at the thought of hiring the one teacher on Hogwarts who detested her as a private tutor.

Lockhart got unsteadily back to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.

"Well, there you have it!" he said, tottering back onto the platform. "That was a Disarming Charm—as you see, I've lost my wand—ah, thank you, Miss Brown—yes an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so. It was very obvious what you were about to do. if I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy—however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see…"

Snape looked murderous. Lockhart probably noticed because he said, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me…"

They moved through the crowd, matching up partners. Lockhart teamed Nevill with Justin, but Snape reached Harry and Ron first.

"Time to split up this dream team, I think," he sneered. "Weasley, you can partner Finnigan. Potter—"

Harry automatically moved towards Hermione.

"I don't think so," said Snape, smiling coldly. "Mr. Malfoy, come over here. And you, Miss Granger, you can partner with Miss Bulstrode."

Harry snorted when Draco came over to her with a raised eyebrow.

"Face your partners!" Lockhart called, back on the platform. "And bow!"

Harry and Draco exchanged glances before bowing lowly.

"Loser has to do the other's homework for a week?" Draco offered.

"I think not. With your skills, _my _grades would drop drastically," Harry sniffed.

"You're such a—"

"Yes I am, and yes I don't care," Harry said, smiling.

Draco gave her an amused smirk.

"Wands at the ready!" shouted Lockhart. "When I count to three, cast your charsm to Disarm your opponents—_only _to disarm them, we don't want any accidents—one… two… three—"

Not bothering to say the word aloud, Harry shot an _Expelliarmus _straight towards Draco. Draco was sent flying backwards before landing on his butt, his eyes wide.

"Did you—_did you just cast a silent spell!?_"

Harry gave Draco a smug look, partly pleased no one seemed to have heard Draco's squeaking, the part of her was pleased that it had worked. She had only been able to practice it silently at night when the others were asleep—hence why she didn't say anything aloud. It had taken her the better part of her final first year and the beginning of her second year, but she could do it.

"Jealous?"

"No," Draco lied immediately.

"_Finite Incantatem!_"

Draco and Harry looked up at Snape's furious shout—now that Harry thought about it, when _wasn't _he furious?k—to see Neville and Justin lying on the floor, panting; Ron was holding up an ashen-faced Seamus, apologizing for whatever; but Hermoine and Bulstrode were still moving; Bulstrode had Hermione in a headlock and Hermione was whimpering in pain; both their wands lay forgotten on the floor.  
Harry shot a silent _Stupefy _at Bulstrode and the girl fell to the floor, unconscious.

"Again with the silence?" Draco demanded. "You—You need to teach me. Now."

"Later," Harry dismissed, hurrying over to Hermione and checking on her. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Hermione gasped, grabbing her wand and patting down her hair.

"I think I'd better teach you how to _block _unfriendly spells," said Lockhart, standing flustered in the midst of the hall. He glanced at Snape, whose black eyes glinted and looked quickly away. "Let's have a volunteer pair—Longbottom and Flinch-Fletchley, how about—"

"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart," said Snape, gliding over to flustered man. "Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spell. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox. How about Malfoy and Potter?"

"I'd rather not," Draco muttered.

Harry gave him a sweet smile. "I think that's an excellent idea!"

"Professor Snape, I don't think I'd like to—"

"Hush, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco gave Harry a look. "Be gentle?"

"No."

The two stepped up on the platform.

"Can you handle this, my protégé?" Lockhart asked.

"Of course," Harry assured him pleasantly.

"Three—two—one—go!" Lockhart exclaimed.

Draco raised his wand quickly and bellowed, "_Serpensortia!_"

The end of his wand exploded. Harry watched, intrigued, as a long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily onto the floor between them, and raised itself, ready to strike. There were startled shouts in the crowd and most of the students backed away, clearing the floor.

"Don't move, Potter," said Snap lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Harry standing motionless, eye to eye with an angry snake. "I'll get rid of it…"

"Don't underestimate _me_, Professor Snape," Harry returned, giving him an annoyed glance. She then strolled forward, raised an eyebrow at the snake before swooping down and grabbing the top of its head. The snake hissed allowed and before Harry could blink, bit on to her.

_Serpensortia summons up small, non-poisonous snakes. It's a spell that's mostly used for intimidation, _Moratorium drawled, feeling bored with the spell. The spell he really wanted to learn about—ever since finding out they were a Parselmouth—was one that would summon up far more interesting snakes.

Harry twitched at the sharp stinging sensation, but it was the same pain as getting a shot.

She raised an eyebrow at Draco. "I am _not _impressed."

Draco sighed.

She raised her wand. "Seeing how that was _obviously _not a disarming spell, I see no reason why _I _should settle for such a boring spell, as well."

"… Damn."

"_Avis; Duro; Oppungo,_" Harry said neatly. She wasn't as familiar with those spells—well, she was fairly familiar with the _Oppungo _spell, but not the other ones, so she had to take her time in pronouncing them and using her wand. When she said _Avis_, black birds shot out of her wand, when she said _Duro, _they hardened and when she said _Oppungo, _they began to bombard on to Draco.

Draco gave a squeak and the other students laughed as the birds began to chase him around the hall. Snape shot Harry an annoyed glance. "You were supposed to _disarm_."

"Tell that to Draco," Harry shot back.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

"Going off again, Harry?" Myrtle giggled, floating around Harry as Harry continued to change into Moratorium.

"Quite. Although, before I leave, Myrtle, might I ask you… How exactly _did _you die?"

Myrtle gave an excited squeak.

"Ooooh, it was dreadful," Myrtle moaned dramatically. "It happened right here, I died in this very stall. I remember it so well; I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny—a different language. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a _boy_ speaking. So I unlocked the door to tell him to go away and then—" Myrtle gave another moan. "I _died_."

"… Just like that? Can you elaborate? What exactly killed you?" Moratorium inquired.

"I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seixed up, and then I was floating away…" Myrtle sighed dreamily.

"Basilisk stare," Moratorium muttered under his breath, giving Myrtle a calculating look.

_That would mean the language she heard… the whole different language… it must have been Parsletongue. Meaning the person who opened the Chambers fifty years ago was a descent of Slytherin… I'm sure Hermione would have already found an article about someone with the surname of Slytherin, so they must not have been well-known as a Slytherin. I wonder… Is it possible they themselves didn't know they were Slytherin until they came to Hogwarts?_

Don't guess at things you have no solid proof on, Harry interjected.

_Yes, yes… _

"Thank you for that tale, dear," Moratorium murmured, eying the bathroom. _She said they spoke parsletongue here… that would imply that this bathroom was the point where the Basilisk and the heir would meet. The entrance, perhaps?_

Moratorium shook his head. "I'll be back in a while, dear. You know the drill."

Myrtle giggled. "Of course!"

Moratorium gave her a serene smile before flooing away.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

"… Did you hear about Hogwarts?" Marwyn asked as he and Moratorium walked down the small alleyway towards the meeting spot.

"Perhaps. What did _you _hear?"

Marwyn gave a quirk of a smile. "Just that in two days, the Minister of Magic will be removing Dumbledore from the school."

Moratorium raised an eyebrow. "Why would they do that?"

"Apparently there have been attacks in the school. The students are in danger. Lucius Malfoy has swayed the mass majority of those in the government that their precious Harry Potter is in danger with Dumbledore in charge. Just look at last year."

Moratorium gave a snort of amusement. "And who would they put in charge? Dumbledore is supposedly the greatest wizard alive."

"Damned if I know," Marwyn replied, holding the door open for them. Moratorium slipped through, entering the closed bar. There was a fairly large that held exactly seven others. Their names weren't important, as they were all disposable as far as Moratorium was concerned. They were each the residing leaders. One to watch over _all _of Moratorium's bars, one to watch over _all _of Moratorium's brothels, one to watch over _all _of Moratorium's casinos, the current leader to the assassin's guild, as well as someone to watch over _all _of the mercenary guilds, another for the sinful island Moratorium was creating, and the final one to watch over Moratorium's family and couple appropriate resort.

Moratorium slid into the final seat and Marwyn moved to stand beside him. Moratorium tilted his head. "Good evening, everyone."

"Evening," they echoed.

"Report," Moratorium ordered.

Most of the time Moratorium preferred to have his reports merely written up and given to him by Marwyn, but he understood the importance of face to face meeting. After all, Moratorium was an excellent judge of character and could always tell when someone was lying to him or withholding information.

That, and he had Marwyn slip Veritaserum in all their drinks before coming to escort Moratorium here.

The bars were going smoothly and as ordered, each bartender kept tabs on any useful gossip or blackmail that came their way. Moratorium was thinking of hiring a small group of intelligent people to sort through the information for Moratorium, there was just so much of it that Moratorium did not have enough time to sort through it himself. He made a mental note to have Marwyn see if he could find the right people. The brothels were going just as smoothly—perhaps a bit better with the way some witches and wizards were cheating on their supposedly significant other at the brothel. Perfect blackmail, of course. The casinos were running smoothly and Moratorium already had a great deal of supposedly revered (pureblooded) families in his debt, even a couple of government officials. Something he would make much use of.

The mercenaries were already being reserved for 'borrowing'. Moratorium wasn't quite sure what they would be needed _for_, but he didn't particularly care. So long as he got his money, it didn't make a difference to him. The island was going well under construction and—Well. Moratorium actually had to have a new official to watch over the island's construction as it would seem the potion revealed his previous official was embezzling money right from under Moratorium's nose.

That just wouldn't do.

After Marwyn dispatched the little pest, the assassin's leader was next.

"I've already begun to privately train those ex-slaves," the older man said plainly. "They have talent, that's certain. The youngest of them seems to be a rising prodigy and I have high hopes for him."

"Really?" Moratorium asked interestedly. "Be sure to keep an eye on him, then. When you believe they are ready, I will personally view them myself. I have… plans for them."

The older man gave a smirk. "But, of course."

"If that's all that needs to be reported, I believe we can disband this meeting," Moratorium said pointedly, standing up. "Until next time, Misères, Madams."

Marwyn and Moratorium exited the building.

"Marwyn?" Moratorium inquired.

"Yes?"

"Why_ did _you become a tool-for-hire?"

Marwyn's lips quirked before he gave Moratorium a thoughtful look. "… It's the only thing I'm good at."

"You _are _very useful," Moratorium murmured, thoughtfully. "I think I quite enjoy having you as my tool. Until next time, Marwyn."

Marwyn gave a low bow. "Until next time, Lord Moratorium."

Moratorium's lips twitched and he gifted Marwyn with a small smile. "Until next time."

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Upon entering the bathroom, Moratorium was greeted with a flooding bathroom.

"… Myrtle?" Moratorium inquired, changing back into Harry.

Myrtle sniffed. "There you are Harry! Oh it was _awful_. This stupid… Someone through a _book _at me."

Harry's brow furrowed and she stepped towards where Myrtle was pointing her finger.

_Oh. It's _that _book,_ Harry thought quietly to herself. _I was actually planning on swiping it tomorrow night to see if _it _somehow was connected to the Chambers. Now that I have more information on the Chambers, I feel comfortable enough with investigating the book and seeing if it's related. After all, it was directly handled by Lucius. Even if he's rather blunt and uninteresting, it would be unwise to underestimate him._

Harry bent down, picking up the book and immediately she felt a rush of goosebumps crawl over her and her scar tingled.

She blinked, staring down at the book.

_This book… It seems… familiar. There's… something… no… someone… inside…?_

"Myrtle," Harry murmured absently, "I will be taking my leave now. Have a pleasant night, dear."

Myrtle gave a reply, but Harry was too focused on the book, she didn't hear.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Blank to the eyes. Harry tried every revealing spell she knew, but nothing was shown. The pages weren't even wet from being soaked in the water. After staring at it for a long while, Harry finally decided to try _writing _in it. Perhaps seeing what happened to the ink would give her an idea on what spell she should try next.

'_Testing. Testing.'_

The ink dissolved away.

Harry blinked.

'_Hello?' _A reply was written.

Harry tilted her head.

'_Hello,' _Harry wrote.

'_Who's this?'_

_ 'Harry Potter. Who's this?'_

_ 'Tom Riddle.'_

Harry froze, the name ringing a _very _familiar bell. She couldn't _quite _place it… yet.

'_How did you come by my diary?'_

_ 'Someone tried to flush it down the toilet,' _Harry answered.

'_Lucky that I recorded my memories in some more lasting way than ink. But I always knew that there would be those who would not want to read this diary.'_

_ 'What do you mean?' _Harry inquired.

_'I mean that this diary holds memories of terrible things. Things that were covered up. Things that happened at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.'_

_ 'Terrible things… Like… the Chamber of Secrets?'_

_ 'Of course I know about the Chamber of Secrets. In my day, they told us it was a legend, that it did not exist. But this was a lie. In my fifth year, the Chamber was opened and the monster attacked several students, finally killing one. I caught the person who'd open the Chamber and he was expelled. But the headmaster, Professor Dippet, ashamed that such a thing had happened at Hogwarts, forbade me to tell the truth. A story was given out that the girl had died in a freak accident. They gave me a nice, shiny, engraved trophy for my trouble and wanred me to keep my mouth shut. But I knew it could happen again. The monster lived on, and the one who had the power to release it was not imprisoned.'_

_ 'Who was it last time?' _

_'I can show you, if you like. You don't have to take my word for it. I can take you inside my memory of the night when I caught him.'_

Harry stared at the diary.

_'You're joking, right? You expect to __**me **__to trust __**you**__, and allow you to take me in you… without knowing exactly what you are in the first place? Do you take me for some kind of idiot? How do I know you aren't simply lying to me in the first place? Just tell me what you know and I'll decide for myself.'_

_ '… Are you Slytherin?'_

_ 'No, but the hat really wanted me to be one.'_

_ '… Why didn't you become Slytherin?'_

_ 'That would have obviously given away my ulterior motives.'_

_ '… You would have been a perfect Slytherin.'_

_ 'The name. Who opened the Chamber fifty years ago?' _

_ 'Hagrid.'_

Harry snorted. _'Bull shit.'_

_ 'I kid you not—'_

_ 'Do you honestly expect me to believe Hagrid is a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, is a Parselmouth and can and __**has **__controlled the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets? If he could speak pasrseltongue, I have no doubt he would have many snakes to this day, so he could speak and cuddle the bloody hell out of them. I call bull shit.'_

_ 'How do you know the creature in the chamber is a Basilisk?'_

_ 'I thought we already established that I wasn't an idiot.'_

Tom did not reply for a while.

_'That's all the information I have.'_

_ 'You're lying, but whatever. I already have a good guess as to where the chamber is now, so I'll just investigate at a later date.'_

_ 'You won't be able to get in,'_ Tom replied quickly.

_'Yes, I will. Myrtle informed me all I had to do was speak Parseltongue, and what do you know? I can speak Parseltongue.'_

_ 'What? You're a descendent of…?'_

_ 'Hell if I know. The magical community is so incestuous, I'm pretty sure I'm some sort of cousin with half the students in Hogwarts.'_

Harry tilted her head. Now why did his name seem so very familiar?

_'I don't suppose you could answer some other questions, I have.'_

_ 'Perhaps. What are they?'_

_ 'What exactly are you?'_

_ 'Why do you ask?'_

_ 'You're very familiar to me. You're not a memory. You're… something more. I can feel it. __**You **__are familiar to me.'_

_ 'I'm just a memory preserved in a diary.'_

Harry gave a sigh, closing the diary and looking over at the name engraved on the…

"Holy shit. It's _Voldewhore!_" Harry breathed, her eyes widening. _That _was why her scar was tingling being near the diary, and that was why the name was so familiar. It was the name Dumbledore had used to banish the annoyance last year.

Which meant…

It was Tom Riddle who opened the Chamber fifty years ago. The annoyance was a Parselmouth—Dumbledore had said so himself—which meant that _Tom Riddle _was a Parselmouth and apparently he went to school fifty years ago… opened the Chamber…

Harry gently set the diary down on the desk, her mind working a mile per minute. The question then begged, how was he…?

Her mind drifted back to Quirrel and she gave a groan of annoyance.

Possession!

He was somehow possessing people through the diary. Not just _people, _it was _Ginny _who held the diary.

Harry shook her head. _What a bother. Oh, well. So long as I keep the diary out of Ginny's reach, there will be no more attacks. Mystery solved. I'll explore the Chamber at a later date; there's no rush—it's not like it's going anywhere, and I'm certain I'll be able to retrieve the information I require out of Tom soon enough._

Standing up and stretching, Harry gave a small smile.

_Time for bed, then._

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

For a full week, nothing happened. Harry didn't touch the diary or attempt to explore the Chambers during that week; she was perfectly content with allowing Moratorium to focus on his plans for the most part. Dumbledore did indeed have to leave the school, and Harry was with him when he left. It was a rather sad goodbye and Harry wasn't quite sure _why _she felt a little sad when he left, and unable to help herself she even told him that they would certainly see each other again.

Dumbledore had smiled serenely at her and bade her goodbye. Even Hagrid had to go, and for that Harry was truly sorry. It meant her information goldmine was out of her reach for a while.

It was on the way back to the library—Harry was walking with Draco and Ron—to meet up with Hermione, that things took a rather annoying turn.

"I talked to father about Dobby. He's willing to negotiate a price, he told me to give you this," Draco said, pulling out a thin envelope. Harry opened it, peering at the number scribbled inside. She tilted her head.

"Alright. I'll send him in the money."

Draco blinked. "What? Seriously? You're not going to try and lower the price, or…?"

"I've made some wise investments with my money, Draco," Harry dismissed. "Besides, this is rather cheap for such a useful elf like Dobby."

Harry paused in her footsteps, rummaging through her pack and pulling out an enchanted mirror.

"What's that connected to?" Ron asked, giving Harry an odd look.

"Gringotts. I'll have them send over the money tonight. I expect Dobby in the morning."

"I'll tell Father tonight, then," Draco replied.

After Harry gave the order, the trio continued on their way, until…

"Harry!"

The trio paused in their walking, finding Neville rushing to them, out of breath. "H-Harry, it's awful. I-I just found out…"

"What is it?" Ron asked.

"It's Hermione," Neville blurted out. "She—She's been petrified!"

Harry froze, her eyes widening.

"What?" Ron demanded. "Where is she?"

"In the hospital room—"

"Let's go," Ron said, hurrying off. Draco gave a small mutter under his breath, but he and Neville followed behind Ron. Harry, however, remained motionless. After a couple of heartbeats passed, she felt a cold fury wash over her.

She sprinted to her dorm, running up the stairs and throwing the door open only to find their dorm torn apart. She ignored the mess, moving straight towards where she kept the diary.

It was gone.

"_Stupid little girl!_" Harry bit out, unable to keep to keep the absolute annoyance and frustration out of her tone. She whirled on her heel, intent on hunting down Ginny.

_Ignorant little—Why would she dare—Is she right in her head—Because of—Hermione is _my _alliance. She is under _my _protection. Any assault down to her is a direct insult to me, _Moratorium growled.

Harry rounded another corner before faltering, staring at the bloody wall.

Her eyes narrowed.

Stupid Voldewhore…

"My word! What is this?"

Harry glanced back, finding Professor McGonagall staring at the writing on the wall.

"I'm going to bring her back," Harry said shortly.

"You certainly will not, Potter," McGonagall said sternly. "This is far too dangerous… We will need to…"

"I _will_ because it is _my _responsibility," Harry snapped. "Ginny is a precious person to one of my alliances. It is my duty and obligation to protect her as such, not to mention it was because of our indulgence that she and Hermione were placed in danger in the first place."

"You are still my student and I am still your Professor, Miss Potter," McGonagall returned, towering over Harry. Harry's eyes narrowed.

"What happened here?" Lockhart gasped as he and the other teachers began surrounding the wall. McGonagall turned away, intent on addressing the teachers and it was then that Harry snuck away.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Harry stared at the bathroom, her eyes finally resting on the sink that the water wouldn't run through. Myrtle claimed it was the only one that wouldn't run water. Peering down at the faucet, Harry's eyes became glued to the serpent engraved on it.

"Parseltongue, hm?" Harry murmured to herself.

"_So what am I supposed to say? Reveal? Chamber of Secrets? Entrance unlock? Open?_" Harry hissed softly.

At _open_, there was a keen whining sound and Harry took a step back as the sink opened up and revealed…

Harry muttered under her breath. "I can't see the bottom…"

Giving a sigh, Harry casted a slow-falling spell on her before she jumped down into the hole. Her feet landed softly on the ground and she canceled the spell. Her eyes roamed around the pit before she lit up the tip of her wand and began walking down the only available tunnel.

Her feet made little noise as she walked, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She could already feel the pleasant rush of adrenaline as her stomach lightened. She had almost forgotten how much she adored these sorts of things.

After exiting the tunnel, she found herself staring at a very long, dimly lit chamber. There, at the end, was Ginny, laying on the ground. Harry approached the girl before kneeling down and placing two fingers over her pulse on her neck. Alive. Unconscious, but alive.

Harry straightened up, her scar tingling and she turned around, finding herself face to face with—

"What happened to you?" Harry couldn't help, but ask.

She knew, logically, that the boy standing in front of her was Tom Riddle—who else could it be? However, when comparing the very handsome and attractive boy to the grotesque _thing _that had been his future self, it was… Off.

Tom's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"You're Volde-whatever, right? Right. I saw you just last year," Harry explained, "and you were _horrible. _I just thought you had always looked like that, but yet… Here you are as… eye candy. That's just… weird."

Tom's lips thinned, his eyes flashing darkly. "Harry Potter, I presume?"

"You presume correctly, Eye-Candy," Harry replied before turning away and dismissing him. Her eyes instead rested back on Ginny, where she tilted her head thoughtfully. "You know, I _was _furious on my way here, but I managed to calm myself. Moratorium was correct in saying that it wouldn't do to go into battle not thinking clearly."

"Quite. However, I'm afraid you're much too late…"

"It was so very annoying, you know," Harry continued, "Having to come all the way down here just to face off to _you_—again, might I add—when I won't even get anything out of it for myself. The stupid little girl really should have just left you alone."

"She didn't really have a choice…"

"And another thing," Harry went on, completely ignoring him.

"No," Tom said flatly, his eyes narrowing and his tone growing icy smooth. "I am done listening to your prattle."

Harry turned to face him, her face completely blank. "That's another difference."

He raised an eyebrow.

"The Voldemort I faced… was not sane. He wouldn't have allowed me to get a full sentence in without screeching death upon me, and while you did grow impatient... you actually listened. The person—or thing—standing before me is someone who is intelligent and cunning. Enough that he was somehow able to convince all those around him that sweet little Hagrid could somehow be the heir of Slytherin—and judging from how you asked how I knew the creature was a Basilisk, you must have also fooled them into thinking the creature was something different. Perhaps not even a snake. You must have quite the silver-tongue, and you must be at least above-average in intelligence to pull something off like that," Harry demurred, moving towards Tom and beginning to circle him slowly.

"Moreover, you were able to pull off an elaborate string of assaults and even a murder in only your fifth year. What potential you had, or perhaps _have_. Not only that, you were able to create this diary—a very special diary. Something that cannot be destroyed through normal means, yes? That doesn't mean it cannot be destroyed at all. There are some things that just cannot be resisted—a Dememtor's kiss, Basilisk venom…

"What stands before me is no mere memory, either. I'm not quite sure what you are—but I intend to find out. What stands before me is something that holds the potential of the _him_, before _he _fell from power and became the hollow husk he is today," Harry finished, stopping to stand before Tom and smile mockingly at him. "Much more… You—"

"Enough with your talking," Tom snapped, his eyes narrowed. "Lord Voldemort is and always will be the greatest wizard. The fact that you escaped alive not once, but twice, is just a lucky _miracle_."

"Perhaps the first time it was," Harry allowed. "The second? Please. A true child could handle _him_."

_"Lies!_" Tom spat venomously.

"You don't believe me?" Harry inquired, feigning hurt. "What a pity, what a pity… But it's true, you see. Lord Voldewhore is just a mockery now. A has-been. A wash out. _You_, on the other hand…"

"_Enough!_ It doesn't matter anymore. Soon enough, I will have a physical body again and your friend will be dead," Tom said.

Harry gave him an amused look before raising her wand over to Ginny. "You know… I thought we already went over this. I'm _not _an idiot."

Tom's eyes narrowed.

"The has-been possessed my teacher last year. Did you honestly think I wouldn't extensively cover every possible possession technique and every possible counter-active spell for possession?" Harry asked rhetorically. Tom's eyes widened.

"Now will you be a good little boy and listen to what I'm saying, or do I have to snip this possible alliance short because you're feeling stubborn?" Harry drawled.

"Alliance?"

Harry smiled. "Good boy. I have questions. Questions that Dumbledore refuses to answer and questions I believe you hold the answer to. No, questions I _know _you have the answer for. I would much rather you remain alive and cooperative a while longer for these questions to be answered."

"I'll answer whatever you want in exchange for walking away when I'm done," Tom purred.

"Ah-ah," Harry chuckled. "Harry Potter must remain to be seen as a _good girl_, and failing to protect a friend from the _bad boy_ Riddle, just wouldn't do any good for her reputation. I don't care if you do manage to ascertain a physical body eventually—hell, if you prove useful enough, I might even _help _you—but it can't and _won't _be someone under mine or Moratorium's protection. Besides, I need to make sure the answers you give to me are completely honest. I can't trust potions or spells in the case as I'm not entirely sure they'll work on you. So I propose a deal…"

Tom gave Harry a calculating look. "What's to stop from calling forth the Basilisk right now and just killing you?"

Harry gave him a wide smile. "I would _love it _if you did that. However, I thought we already established this, but perhaps you're not as intelligent as I perceived you to be: _I am not an idiot. _Did you honestly think I would come down here without a plan for the Basilisk?"

Tom's lips pursed. "No. It was for that very reason I hadn't already called him forth. Very well, what do you propose?"

"Time and proof," Harry said. "I'm not in a rush for the information. At least, not in a terrible one. I can be patient. Besides, I would much rather have you as an ally, than discard you completely from the game. All I ask is that _you _remain patient with me and I will prove to you _why _you should be my ally."

"And if you don't?"

"Then I will discard you," Harry replied plainly. "You seem so very intent on believing your future self is so great and powerful. However, out of the two of you, I would say _you _were the more dangerous one. I will show you how far you have fallen—of what you became without _my _assistance."

"What's to stop me from betraying you?" Tom asked curiously.

"It would amuse me if you did," Harry answered honestly. "After all, the whole reason I allowed Lucius to give Ginny the diary was for my own curiosity. The only reason I'm in Gryffindor is because of my rather reckless ambition and addiction for adventure. Some might even refer to me as an adrenaline addict. Perhaps I am. After all, I just adore risks."

Tom stared at Harry for a long while. "What an incredibly selfish thing to do. You risked the lives of others… just for the sake of your amusement?"

"The lives? No," Harry dismissed. "I doubt Lucius would ever seriously put his son in danger, not mention Draco's mother would have a fit. Besides, not a single student was killed, this year. Do you know why?"

"Luck," Tom said blandly.

Harry gave him a condescending smile. "What a naïve thought. I'm not entirely sure _why _Dumbledore never pursued the Basilisk himself. I'm certain he knew of it quite well, and I'm even more certain he know about _you. _However, perhaps he wished to allow this adventure to myself. After all, all he needed to do was protect the students, just like he did all those years ago."

Tom's eyes widened. "You cannot seriously be implying that it was _Dumbledore _who—"

"All I know is that Dumbledore is a very powerful and wise man who knows the answers to quite a few things. Do you honestly believe he _wouldn't _know about the Basilisk?"

Tom gave Harry an annoyed glare. "Then why did Myrtle die?"

"_That_ was just unlucky," Harry said, shrugging. "I'm not sure. After all, Myrtle was _right there _when you opened the Chambers, it would be nothing short of a miracle if she _didn't _die."

"If he really knew about all of this, why hasn't he come down here himself before, then? And why didn't he stop me?"

"I doubt Dumbledore _could _come down here," Harry replied. "This place _was _built by Salazar Slytherin, correct? Dumbledore is great and all, but I doubt even he could enter a place Slytherin did not want him to enter in. As for why didn't he stop you…? Maybe he wanted to give you a second chance."

Tom's lips curled in distaste. "That does sound rather like him…"

"Enough with this, though," Harry dismissed. "When I found out Dumbledore was leaving, I intended to grab the diary to make sure there would be no more unlucky accidents… Back to my main point. My offer. Do you accept?"

"I accept for now," Tom muttered. "It's not like I have much of a choice."

"No; it isn't," Harry agreed before shooting off the strongest dispelling spell she knew at Ginny. The effects were immediate and Tom glowed a bright white before completely dissolving away. Harry stooped down and picked up the diary at Ginny's side before quickly shooting a _Stupefy _at her.

She then held up the diary before rummaging through her pack and pulling out a similar-looking one. She transfigured the diary to match the one before her, before she moved straight towards the stones.

"_Hello? Basilisk? Can you hear me?"_

There was a long pause before the mouth of Slytherin opened. Harry immediately closed her eyes. She could feel the soft crunch of rocks and bones being moved and broken as the great creature slid out of the mouth.

"_Who are you, little girl?"_

"_I am the current Parselmouth in Hogwarts. The one you who spoke to you previous was, but a memory possessing another student. You must have recognized the voice from fifty years ago,_" Harry replied.

"_I did. I did not quessstion how he came back to the ssschool in the form of a girl, however. Where did he go?_"

"_He is gone for the moment_."

"_Will he return?_"

"_Doubtful._"

"_Then you are the heir now?_"

"_It would seem that way. Do you acknowledge me as such?"_

Harry felt a hot breath wash over her face. "_I have little choice when you ssspeak ssso clearly in my language. Yesss; I acknowledge you as the new heir and my new missstresss. What would you have me do?"_

Harry held up the fake diary. "_Bite into this, if you would, please. Use your venom. When you are finished, you may go back to sleep. When I return, I will have brought gifts with me to thank you for your… services."_

"_Very well, missstresss…_"

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Harry's ears were still ringing after McGonagall's lecture.

"I don't care how upset that woman is… _thank you, _Harry," Ron said, sitting across Harry in the Gryffindor lounge.

"We owe you," Fred added on the right side of Harry.

"Big time," George also added on the left side of Harry.

Harry flushed. "I was just doing my obligation. Without Dumbledore around… Well, Ginny wasn't all that safe."

"Speaking of Dumbledore, I heard he was returning tomorrow," Neville said.

"Now if only they would hurry up and make the mandrake potions," Harry sighed. "I'm actually starting to miss Hermione…"

"Aren't we all," the twins agreed.

"So how long will they keep Ginny in the hospital wing?"

"Not long."

The group of friends glanced up to see Ginny standing shyly before them, smiling. "I… I wanted to say thanks, Harry. I'm really sorry about what I—"

Harry dismissed her concerns. "As I explained to McGonagall, it was the work of a possession of the _real _past heir to Slytherin. However, seeing how defeated him, you have no reason to worry."

Ginny nodded her head, smiling. "Yeah… I just… Thanks."

Harry shrugged, flushing lightly and looking away, not comfortable with her gratitude.

"Sure…"

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

"Professor Dumbledore?"

"Ah! Harry, do come in. What is it you wanted to see me about?"

Harry placed the fake diary on Dumbledore's desk. "This. I didn't…I, uh… I didn't give it to Professor McGonogall and I didn't elaborate much on the possession. I felt like it would best if I told just you. This…"

"… is the diary that possessed Ginny?" Dumbledore inquired.

Harry did not reply for a while longer. "… Whatever was inside of this diary is no longer there. Basilisk venom destroys the very magical property of anyone or anything."

"Ah, yes, I see… And the Basilisk?"

"Alive and well… Actually, I was hoping to garner your permission for something regarding him…?"

Dumbledore gave Harry a smile. "Yes?"

"Can I keep him?" Harry blurted out before blushing brightly. "I-I promise to take good care of him, and I promise to make sure he doesn't attack anyone else. Well, except maybe Voldewhore, but I think that's kind of understandable—please?"

Dumbledore gave Harry a warm laugh, the laugh somehow made Harry relax a bit more. "If that's what he wants, I don't see why not."

"Yes!" Harry exclaimed, beaming brightly. "Does that mean when I graduate Hogwarts—I can take him with me?"

"Of course," Dumbledore allowed.

Harry was trying very hard not to dance in place.

"I, uh, will probably be using the Chambers, just so you know," Harry added. "I already read the school rules and there's nothing against me using them, but I just thought you should know."

"Thank you for telling me," Dumbledore replied. "Now, is there anything else you want to tell me?"

"My scar was hurting because of the diary," Harry said. "I don't know what that means, but I intend to find out. Other than that? No, there's nothing more I want to tell you."

"Very well. Good day, Harry."

"Good day, Professor Dumbledore."

Harry turned away before hesitating and turning back garound. She gave a shy smile. "… It's good to see you back, Professor Dumbledore."

He smiled warmly at her. "It's good to be back."

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Harry exited Dumbledore's office before finding herself face to face with Lucius.

"Messere Malfoy," Harry said, dipping her head politely.

Lucius returned her nod with one of his own. "I brought Dobby. I have business with Dumbledore, so I hope you don't mind if I make this quick."

"Not at all," Harry replied honestly, glancing at Dobby and smiling. Dobby squeaked in surprise. Lucius gave another curt nod before continuing on his way to Dumbledore's office.

"Alright," Harry said bluntly, "ever since Hermione got in my head, I can't seem to get it out. So I will ask you point blank: do you want to be free?"

"Yes."

Harry nodded her head. "Fine."

She then pulled off her tie and handed it to Dobby. "There. You're technically free. All I ask now, is that you return to my service as a _free _elf, and I will _pay you. _You're devotion is too valuable to me for me to give up on you so easily."

Dobby took the tie with wide, watery eyes. "Misses Harry Potter… freed Dobby? And… And Misses Harry Potter wants to _pay _Dobby?"

"Yes," Harry said.

Dobby burst into tears before latching onto Harry's leg. "_Dobby will never forget Misses Harry Potter's kindness!_"

Harry sighed.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

The island was opened, the guilds were running and the resort was scheduled to open within a month.

The once petrified students were finally free and working overtime for the classes they missed. Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup again and Oliver broke down crying again, clinging to Harry and Fred (as the two were key in Gryffindor's victory).

All an all, it was a pleasant ending to the school year.

Harry had yet to touch the diary since the Chamber incident, focused instead on creating a specific spell _for _the diary. She estimated she would have it finished the beginning of her third year. She visited the Chamber nearly every other day, growing fonder of her companion.

Moratorium was in love with the Chambers, as it seemed no one save them and those they allowed in could enter it. It was the perfect place for him to really work on some of the more elaborate schemes, as well as for him and Harry to practice their spell work and potions. It did require extensive work in making it habitable for human life, though. However, that was what Dobby was for, for the moment. The little elf seemed rather ecstatic to be working for Harry and Harry was pleased to have such a devoted servant.

At Draco's persistence, Harry finally agreed that starting next year, she would be tutoring her alliances in the more difficult part of spells—silent spells.

Lockhart ended the school year to be known as a narcissistic man, who was surprisingly capable of teaching. However, because he was still only signed up for a year at Hogwarts, he would not be returning the following year. Nevertheless, he promised Harry he would keep in touch with letters to make sure that when she finally did debut in the press, she did it with style and grace.

Some leaning on Moratorium's part caused Hagrid's charges fifty years ago to be dropped as his name was cleared. Even if the true heir to Slytherin would remain anonymous, it was quite clear that Hagrid—who was not a parslemouth—and his pet—which was _definitely _not a snake—was _not_ the one who killed Myrtle all those years ago and as such, his was given a new wand and cleared of his charges. Moratorium quite liked having his information gold mind kept content and Harry definitely liked her frie—_alliance_ kept content, as well.

And so, that concluded Harry's second year at Hogwarts.

As she rode on the train, squashed in between Hermione and Neville while Ron and Draco continued to bicker and Fred, George and Jordan-Lee plotted some grand scheme next year, she felt herself smiling.

All in all, it had been a good year.

Her hands rested on the small black book that she kept at the top of her bad.

Harry's smile twisted a bit more.

But somehow, she had a feeling next year would be even better.

* * *

**(⊙‿⊙✿)**

* * *

_So yes, I decided to continue this story. I would like to clear some things up before I end this..._

_1.) Italicized in most stories means the character's thoughts. Italicized for the most part means Harry's thoughts, however when she's having a conversation with Moratorium, italicize is what Moratorium is saying. _

_2.) It always seemed so weird that Canon!Harry could 'sense' the Horcruxes... yet he didn't sense anything off or familiar about the diary...? I'm ignoring that plot-hole and just making Harry be able to sense the Horcruxes all the way through like Canon!Harry could at the end. _

_3.) It seemed even weirder that out of all the accidents... only one person died... and again when the Chamber was opened, all of the supposed attacks weren't fatal. If you so much as look a Basilisk in the eye, you die. It just seemed very... thin... that only one person died. So I gave my own reasons to why I thought that. _

_4.) Yes. Harry seriously made a deal with Tom Riddle. Why? You'll see more on later chapters exactly what she (and Moratorium) has in store for him. Oh, and I'm pulling my super amazing authoress powers and changing him up a bit... just his personality. I'm making **significantly **more rational than Canon!Tom Riddle. As consequence of being more rational, he's less prone to make idiotic moves (like sending in his Basilisk so soon, despite knowing he was up against a rather cunning person and thus ruining that trump card), like he did in Canon._

_5.) I'm also changing Oliver Wood's graduating year. Instead of having Harry's third year be his last year, I'm having Harry's fourth year be his last year. _

_6.) Due to how long it takes to write a chapter out and how busy I am and will be... I estimate the update schedule for this story will be a little crazy. Perhaps once every moth and a half? Once a month, maybe? We'll see. I'm sorry I don't have this story on a set schedule like I do for my other ones. _

_Reviews are **love**!_


	3. Prisoner of Azkaban

**_Disclaimer: _**_Harry Potter is Rowling's toy, I'm just playing with it._

**_Warning:_**_ Less than morally-acceptable scenarios. _

**_Beta:_**_ Chosen, but this is the un-edited version until beta can finish editing this. :)_

* * *

Ridiculous.

That's what it was. _Ridiculous_.

Harry could feel her annoyance bubbling inside of her at the mere mentioning of that atrocious _woman_ coming to visit. For she was the one woman who could grate horrendously so on Harry's nerves—enough that Harry wasn't even able to maintain even an iota of politeness to the beast. _Oh,_ how Harry despised her and _oh_ how Moratorium longed to kill her.

However, Harry had to remain a good girl, and as such she did nothing more than a blank stare when the dreadful news was given. On the night That Woman (Harry couldn't even acknowledge her name—names were given to creatures who were considered worthy enough to hold a name, she was not) came, Harry could feel her teeth grinding together in her mouth as she was forced to serve the family.

She really, really hated living with them.

The moment she was able to move out with them, she would. Seventeen could not seem so far away.

Finally, when the dreadful meal was over (it took every ounce of self-restraint on her part not to indulge Moratorium's wishes and off the woman the moment she started making snide comments on Harry's parents), Harry stormed off into her room, slammed the door shot, dragged her bookcase across it) and let out a string of curses.

"I hate that woman. I really do. I hate this house. I really, _really,_ do," Harry muttered, her eyes lingering a moment or two longer on the bars on her window. They really didn't bother Harry, she had Dobby specially enchant them so that way they would bend under her specific touch. While she herself wasn't allowed to use magic outside of school, her elf was.

Harry let out a short breath before whirling around falling onto her bed. Her eyes scanned over her neat room before resting on the clipped out newspaper photo—it was of Ron and Ginny's family on vacation to Egypt.

At first, Harry never intended to include Ginny in on her alliance. Especially when the silly girl got herself so easily manipulated by Tom, but after spending a handful of hours with her afterwards… she found that she quite liked Ginny. There was just something likable about the girl. Both she and Ron made sure to write to Harry all about their type in Egypt. Harry's other fri—alliances kept in touch, as well. Draco had an eventful summer on vacation with his mother and father; Hermione seemed to enjoy her summer with her parents, as well; Neville and his Grandmother actually went on their own vacation; Fred and George (like Ron and Ginny) wrote to Harry about Egypt, too…

Harry felt a small stab in her chest.

Everyone had a family.

Harry never really wanted a family. The one she had was just dreadful and she couldn't really imagine having any other type of family. She never planned on wanting one, either. Her parents were dead and she acknowledged their sacrifice for her. Some part of her felt as if by wanting a family, she was ruining their sacrifice for her. The other, more largely dominate, part of her warned her that having a family was just not worth it. Having friends was just not worth it. She was Moratorium and Moratorium could not afford friends or family or loved ones. It was too dangerous. Everyone needed to be kept at arms-length, so that when push came to shove, strings could be cut without Harry and Moratorium's heart being broken.

It was the most logical approach, the most rational.

Moratorium did not want family or friends.

For a long, long time, Harry Potter thought she did not want family or friends, either.

She admitted she enjoyed spending time with her alliances, and she very much liked the close-knit feel the Weasley family provided, but she also told herself that they could never be anything more than alliances.

It was the safest thing to do.

Harry shook her head, still feeling the sting of anger inside of her from That Woman.

Moving to her window, she opened the window, bent the bars away and jumped down the short distance into the bushes below. She wasn't all that concerned about getting back up in the room—she could always call Dobby and ask him to take her back to her room.

With her wand tucked in her hands, she started walking to the park.

Upon reaching the park, she took a seat on the swings and let out a long sigh.

Despite no longer living in the cupboard under the stairs—even having a decent sized room—she still felt cramped and trapped inside that suffocating house.

There was a soft snort in front of her and Harry looked up tiredly before her eyes settled on the eyes of a stray dog.

"Yellow eyes… Damn I miss my baby," Harry gave a small sigh, turning away from the dog and reminiscing about her darling Basilisk back at Hogwarts. "Why can't I just hurry up and grow up so I can bring back my darling pet home with me? Poor thing must be so lonely at Hogwarts…"

The dog gave a small snort, padding softly forward, hesitantly.

Harry turned back to the dog. "Aren't you a raggedy thing? I don't… Mmm…"

Harry rummaged through her pockets before finally pulling out a small box of crackers. She had bought them a couple days ago at a vending machine when she went shopping. She had meant to eat them right away, but was distracted and soon enough forgot them in her jacket pocket.

She opened the box, pulling out some crackers and holding them out towards the dog.

_Damn Hagrid. I swear I'm becoming more and more of an animal lover_, Harry thought rather fondly as the dog came closer and sniffed the crackers.

Harry reached out with her other hand and ran her fingers through the dog's dirty fur. After the entire box of crackers was gone, the dog sat down on his haunches and licked his chops. Harry assumed the dog was a male, but she acknowledged it very well could have been a female. She carefully scratched behind his ears and he gave a small growl.

"Ah, don't like that, then?" Harry laughed, retracting her hands and setting them in her lap. "Fair enough, fair enough."

The dog gave another whine before setting his massive head in her lap, Harry moved her hands and gently stroked the top of the dog's head.

"I wish I could take you with me to Hogwarts," Harry told him. "I actually have the perfect place to hide you. I've actually always wanted a dog—I just wanted a pet in general, actually, but a dog specifically. Hagrid bought me an owl for my birthday and I adore him so, but he's not all that affectionate. I have another pet—your eyes kind of remind me of him, actually—but I can only keep him at Hogwarts for the time being. He's too… conspicuous."

The dog tilted his head, looking up at Harry.

"I'm sorry, I really wish I could," Harry told the dog sincerely. "I wish I could bring you back to that… house, too, but I don't think I could hide you without resorting to magic and that would just be asking for trouble. Not to mention that place is no place for an animal of any sort."

The dog gave a small whine.

"Trust me," Harry said dryly, "for eleven years they kept me in a cupboard—a human child—and used me as little more than a servant. Not to mention the actual punishments…"

Harry fell silent, her hands curling into fists and as she fought back the strong bubbles of rage that began to rise up inside of her. "Trust me, dog, you don't want to stay there."

The dog gave a quiet snarl, stepping away from Harry to seemingly pace furiously back and forth.

Harry's rage subsided and she watched the dog in amusement. "I suppose I should be heading back there, though—"

The dog gave a sharp bark, shaking his head in a firm no manner.

"Oh?" Harry asked rhetorically. "You don't think so? What a bright dog. Neither do I, however, I must stay with them until it is time for me to go back to Hogwarts."

The dog gave another sharp bark, shaking his head no again.

Harry didn't bother to respond to the animal, choosing instead to call out, "Dobby?"

Dobby appeared in a flash of light, smiling brightly. "Yes, Misses Potter?"

Harry gave an affectionate smile for her favorite elf. "Do you think you can take me back to my room? Oh and… do you think you can give this dog a bath and feed him?"

Dobby gave a firm shake of his head. "Yesses, Miss Potter! Alright doggy, be good! Dobby will be back for you."

The dog cocked his head and shook his head, taking a few steps towards Harry. Before anything else could happen, though, Dobby had teleported Harry back into her room. Harry sat down at her desk while Dobby teleported away.

_I suppose now would be a good time to deal with Tom_, Harry thought, pulling out the diary and setting it down on her desk. _I haven't opened it or talked to Tom the entire summer—too busy researching the correct spell needed and refining it. Thankfully I was able to find it with enough time to refine it before school started._

Harry opened the book.

'_Hello, Tom. I have some news for you_.'

'_Hello, Harry. It's been a while_.'

'_I suppose. I've been busying making arrangements for us_.'

'_Oh? May I ask what kind of arrangements_?'

'_You'll see them when I get to school and have time to return to the Chambers. I just thought I would give you a warning, as this will be the last time we will converse in this manner_.'

Tom did not reply for a while, mulling over Harry's words.

'_Do you mean we will converse in another manner? Like face-to-face_?'

'_In a manner of speaking, yes_.'

'_You actually plan on giving me a physical body_?'

Moratorium smiled.

'_You will see_.'

Closing the book, Moratorium and Harry gave out a chuckle of amusement—finding amusement from very different things.

Harry had her reasons for wanting to keep a hold on Tom. Moratorium had his own reasons for wanting to keep hold of Riddle, as well.

He knew, instinctually and logically, that Riddle was an intelligent and cunning person. The fact that he had risen so far was a testament to that. Moratorium could respect Riddle in that aspect. Yet... Yet someone so quick—witted, so rational, was able to fall so hard and in such a way it left Moratorium flabbergasted. He had never read or researched someone who fell in such a way that did not involve some sort of chemical accident.

In a lot of ways, Riddle was like Moratorium. So the fact that he had fallen so hard...

… unnerved Moratorium. He did not like it.

His reason for keeping Riddle around was so that way he could learn from his mistakes.

He was not going to fail where Riddle had. And the only way to do that was to learn exactly where Riddle fell and how.

In some ways, one of Harry's reasons was similar to Moratorium's. She wanted to know exactly how he fell, but more importantly—she wanted to know about the supposed 'Dark Lord.' After all, while she still didn't consider him a very large threat, she couldn't ignore the fact that he had been behind not one, but _two_ nearly lethal (for her alliances) school years. She had a feeling that until she finally offed him, he would continue to be an annoyance. Moratorium also wanted the Dark Slut gone, as he had already discovered that so long as there were whispers of his survival, there were possible tools and investors that were out of Moratorium's reach—dedicated to the has—been.

He escaped death once—twice technically if you count Harry's first year run—in with him—and Harry was sure he would continue to do so again until she figured out how to stop him.

Who better to know his weakness… than himself?

But again; she had to earn Tom's trust… or at least his cooperation.

_Kill two birds with one stone. Answer Harry's questions and put an end to the annoyance_, Moratorium thought.

Harry inwardly nodded in agreement.

Speaking of Moratorium…

There had been a few hiccups over the summer. With the sinful island in full swing (actually named Siren Heaven—due to its apparently tempting nature, just like the sirens), there had been several attempted lawsuits against it—they all failed, or died if they were looking like they would succeed. The Auroras were getting quite angry, but Marwyn was very good at his job. He was currently Moratorium's favorite tool. More importantly, though, there had been some who tried to take over Moratorium's island, small groups of wanna—best. It was interesting to see them struggle, but mostly a nuisance. Moratorium knew it was only a matter of time before competition began arising as others started to follow his example. More brothels, casinos and bars were beginning to grow—brothels and bars that Moratorium had no say in the matter.

Those that could not be bought out were quickly blacklisted and Moratorium sought of ways to sabotage them. After all; killing them would only beg for more attention from the Auroras and it increased the chances of Marwyn messing up. It was just too risky and not worth it, besides, Moratorium was having some fun sabotaging them. His latest sabotage involved planting incriminating evidence to one of his target's murders (the target was trying to file a lawsuit at Siren Heaven… the idiot), and sending his wife some photos of her darling husband with a very friendly young lady. Once the owner of the business was locked up and or ruined, his business would be left in the hands of his furious wife who would be very displeased with him—displeased enough that of Moratorium offered the right price, the place could very easily be bought.

Aside for those minor hiccups, everything else was going smoothly. The guilds were training their recruits nicely and Moratorium was hearing not, but positive reports regarding his latest crew in the assassin's guild.

For Harry's third year, Moratorium planned on setting up and establishing more business on Siren Heaven—along with a few other select places. The first business was underground dueling—as dueling was apparently illegal in most places in general and was a very old sport. However, Moratorium felt that the sincere lack of sports in the wizarding world was just a tragic shame. He knew they would never go for anything involving direct physical labor—let's face it, the wizarding world was lazy in general—but they would adore something flashy and adrenaline—pumping. Nothing was more adrenaline—pumping than an actual fight, so Moratorium went for the closest thing—dueling.

The second sport was something Moratorium was looking forward to setting up.

Mythical Creature Racing. As in, dragons, gryphons, hippogriffs—anything went, so long as it could race. Seeing how there was nothing illegal about it found in the legal system of the government—they really only seemed to frown upon Muggles, Dark Arts, and non—humans—Moratorium planned on setting it up in a more public area… as well as Siren Heaven.

_You know, it's a bit strange_, Moratorium mused.

What is?

_The school year is so close, yet we haven't seen anything interesting or life—threatening happen to us, yet. I hope this year doesn't prove too boring._

That _would_ be dreadful.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

"So this is the only car available?" Harry inquired, filing into the slightly filled—there was one other person there, a sleeping man—car behind Hermione. Hermione glanced back at Harry, giving her a small nod.

Harry slid into the car, sitting next to the sleeping man while Hermione sat across from her, her cat purring loudly in her lap. The door the car slid open and George and Fred squeezed inside, both sitting on opposite sides of Hermione and slinging an arm around her shoulder. Hermione gave them both annoyed glances. "You do know we were saving those seats for your brother and sister."

"We know," they chorused. "We just wanted to sit with Harry for a bit. They can sit with Jordan-Lee until we're finished."

"What for?" Harry asked curiously, ignoring the look Ron was giving his brothers when he noticed the car was then full.

George pulled out a map. "You remember this, Harry?"

"Of course, the secret tunnels. What about it?"

"We would want to give this to you," Fred began, "seeing how we don't need it anymore. We have exactly two more years left—after this year, 'course—and we decided that we want to leave this map in capable hands."

"And we know that you can be quite devious when you want to be," George said.

"And?" Harry prompted again.

George and Fred exchanged glances. "While we told you this map told us about the secret tunnels, we didn't tell you what else it did."

They unrolled the parchment, ignoring the curious looks both Harry and Hermione were giving them when the two girls only saw a blank parchment.

"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good," the twins chorused, touching the tips of their wands to the parchment.

Harry and Hermione's eyes widened when they saw the map of Hogwarts appear and Moratorium gave an inward smirk. Not only did the parchment show an excellent map of Hogwarts—it held the exact location of everyone inside the building.

"What do you want for it?" Harry asked immediately.

"Harry, what are you thinking? This can't be allowed in school," Hermione sniffed.

"I'm thinking Voldewhore won't be able to sneak up on me again," Harry said dryly.

Hermione gave a grudging nod. "… I don't like it."

"You don't have to," the twins chorused. "To get this map, Harry—kins, you have to prove to us that you can be just as devious as us."

"… How about I just do a very elaborate and showy prank?" Harry asked instead.

"Works for us."

Harry held out her hands. "Pleasure doing business with you, boys."

They shook.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Harry was sleeping quietly on Hermione's shoulder, a blanket tightly around her while her frie—alliances—conversed quietly. She was having a relatively pleasant dream when she awoke to the train stopping. Blinking her eyes open, she found herself staring in near darkness, as the lights had gone out.

"Wha—"

"The train's stopped," Ginny said, frowning in confusion.

"But we aren't there, yet," Hermione said, equally confused.

Harry stared bleary-eyed at the window, her eyes narrowing. "Frost. Why is there frost on the window?"

"Is it just me, or is getting really cold?" Ron asked, rubbing his arms.

"It's not just you," Neville replied, shivering.

Harry gave a large yawn before standing up. "I'll see what's up. Stay here."

Exiting the car, Harry peered down the long, empty, dark hallway before making her way towards the conductor's car. However, a few steps down, she stopped when she felt a sharp chill run down her spine. With wide eyes, she turned around slowly, her eyes widening even more so when she recognized exactly what was before her.

A dementor.

_Of all the..._ Harry thought to herself. _The one creature I couldn't master the spell to fight off. Really? Really? My best chance would be to find an upperclassmen…_

The dementor began to drift towards her and Harry took several steps back, pulling out her wand.

_Or call for Dobby and leave the train_, Moratorium suggested.

But then Hermione and the others would be left defenseless.

Moratorium did not reply and Harry began focusing her mental shields. While she knew there was only way to ward off a dementor, there were ways of resisting their… abilities. Occlumency was one of them.

"I know you're intelligent," Harry said, still backing away from the creature. "I know you simply choose not to be in most cases, but I will warn you now; if you attack me, you will regret it. This is a Hogwarts student train and that means that if you harm so much as one student, there will be hell to pay."

The dementor continued to approach Harry.

"Of course you're so focused on me that you won't listen to reason," Harry muttered, her back finally pressing against a wall. The tip of her wand began to glow a bright white.

_Well. I always was told that I worked best under pressure_, Harry thought sardonically.

That was when a giant silver wolf came barreling down the wall, hitting the dementor and effectively warding the thing off. Soon afterwards, the light came back on and Harry relaxed. At the end of the hallway was the sleeping man—who was no longer sleeping—who held out his wand, his eyes sharp.

Harry relaxed her wand, cocking her head. "Hello. Thank you."

He gave a short nod. "Are you alright?"

"I've been better."

He gestured towards her. "Come here, then. I'll see if I can find some, ah, chocolate for you…"

Harry nodded her head, ignoring the looks she was given from other passengers and following the man back into her car.

"I am… Professor Lupin," the man said, holding out a chocolate bar for Harry. She took it with a quiet thank you, nibbling on it.

"A pleasure," Hermione said immediately. "I am Hermione Granger, and these are my friends, Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley, his sister, Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter."

Lupin gave a nod in the direction of each name. "Likewise."

"Any idea what exactly the bloody hell dementors were doing on the train?" Ron asked.

"That would most likely be because of Fudge," Lupin said. "He sent the dementors in hopes of protecting, young Miss Potter."

"Bloody good job at that," Ron muttered.

Lupin gave a thin smile.

"Protecting me from what?" Harry asked.

"Why do you sound a little excited?" Ginny sighed.

"From Sirius Black," Lupin said.

"Oh… What's so bad about him?"

"Sirius Black is… a murderer," Lupin answered, "and he's out for you, Miss Potter."

"… That's it?" Harry asked, a little disappointed.

Hermione, Ron and Neville sighed while Lupin and Ginny appeared slightly startled.

Harry shook her head. "Well… it won't be anywhere near as fun with all the dementors running around. Oh well. I'll just make do."

Lupin gave a small smile of amusement. "Gryffindor, I take it?"

"You would be correct," Harry replied. "Although… with all these dementors running around… will you be teaching us the Patronus Charm in DADA—assuming you are the new DADA professor?"

"I am the new DADA professor and, no; the Patronus Charm is a very difficult charm to learn," Lupin said.

"What if I stayed after to learn it?" Harry inquired. "Please. I'm willing to bribe you with chocolate. Everyone likes chocolate."

Lupin laughed and Hermione piqued up, "Actually, I wouldn't mind learning the Charm, also. Especially with all these creatures running around on Hogwarts."

"Same," Neville said immediately. "Hagrid said the only way to fend them off was the Patronus Charm. I—I don't want them anywhere near me."

"I'd like to learn, too," Ginny chirped.

"I better learn it, also," Ron added.

Lupin eyed each of us, his lips twitching in amusement. "… Alright. I suppose with so many of you, I can't really refuse. I'll contact you about the lessons after our first class together, hmm?"

"Sounds good to me," Harry declared.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Harry whistled a happy tune as she made her way through the crowd, intent on finding Draco and informing him about the lessons—as well as the rest of her Quidditch team—before she ran into a small blond haired girl. She gave a polite smile. "Excuse me, miss…?"

"Oh! Luna. Luna Lovegood, and excuse me, as well, Miss Potter, Mr. Moratorium," Luna replied, readjusting her grip on her bag.

Harry's smile slipped.

"… What?"

"Don't worry, you're secret is safe with me," Luna whispered to her before heading off on her merry little way.

Harry paled significantly while Moratorium spluttered.

Before Harry or Moratorium could make a reply, however, the girl was lost in the crowd.

_Mental note: contact Luna Lovegood again. Soon._

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

After the feast—and the announcement of the new professors—everyone was sent off to their dorms. Harry decided to just head straight to the Chambers, informing Hermione that she was off on a quick errand. After entering the Chambers, she extracted her bag, and called out, "Dobby?"

The elf appeared, as always, with a bright grin. "Yes, Misses Potter?"

"You've done a wonderful job with the Chamber," Harry told him, looking around.

Dobby had indeed done a marvelous job with the Chamber. Using Harry's and Moratorium's money, Dobby bought the necessary supplies to really make the Chamber Harry's secret home. The floors were polished to a shiny black, not a cobweb in sight, and the entire place was well-lit with torches. The fire was specially ordered and enchanted so it could flicker its color and die out whenever Harry wished it so.

The long tunnels were cleared and cleaned out of the bones and debris, instead they were cleaned and polished. The water was properly directed through the correct tunnels and there were no excess and unnecessary ponds. While cleaning the Chamber, Dobby had found a few extra wide-space areas that could double as rooms. They were dried out and carpeted and Harry had Dobby bring in many things from the Potter vault to them—mostly books and other magical items—and picked out quite a bit of new furniture. One room was dedicated for magical training—there were dummies, cauldrons, weapons rack, cabnits to store ingrediants, etc. Another room was set up as a library and study and the final room was set up as a sort of master bedroom.

In all the rooms, however, Dobby made sure to keep into account of the Basilisk, making sure there was plenty of room for him to maneuver through the rooms with ease.

"Dobby is pleased Harry is pleased!" Dobby squealed, jumping up and down.

Harry gave Dobby a bright smile. "Would you be a dear and go ahead and bring me the cows?"

"Right away!"

Dobby disappeared in a crack and was gone for only a couple of heartbeats before reappearing with five cows.

"Thank you, dear, that will be all. Go ahead and take a break for the rest of the night."

Dobby nodded firmly, disappearing again as Harry murmured the words to summon her Basilisk.

The Basilisk kept his eyes close—as he did not really need them, anyway—as he slithered out of his room—which Dobby had cleaned and carpeted with specially enchanted carpet that would warm up to keep the room at a toasty temperature for the beast—and approached Harry.

"_Welcome back, missstresss,_" he sighed, bending his head down.

"_It's good to be back, precious one. I brought you your favorites_," Harry said, gesturing to the cows.

He swung his massive head towards the beasts before letting out a soft hiss and moving towards his prey.

While he ate, Harry pulled out the diary and began to explain what she had in mind for it.

By the time he was finished eating, Harry was finished talking.

"_Very well, I will do as you asssk, missstresss_," he replied, his tongue flicking out and brushing against Harry's cheek. Harry gave a giggle.

"_Thank you. Ah, which reminds me, before I go, have you decided on your name?_"

He gave another small hiss. "_I have. Basileusss. That is the name I have chosen_."

It took a while for Harry to process the name. Basileus, Latin for king. Harry gave a small laugh. "_It suits you, dear one. Very well, I must be heading back to my dorms, Basileus, sweet dreams_."

Basileus dipped his head before slithering away from Harry, back to his cozy nest.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

The following morning, after breakfast, Harry had Dobby find out Luna's schedule so Harry could track her down. It didn't take Dobby long and soon enough, Harry was skipping her first DADA class (a shame, but a necessary one), stupefying Luna when no one was looking, and dragged the girl to the girl's bathroom, having Myrtle guard the door.

It wasn't long before Luna came to, blinking her blue eyes up at Harry. "Oh. Hello Harry. Or is it Moratorium? I can't quite tell."

"Harry," Harry replied, her eyes narrowed. "However, Moratorium very much wishes to speak with you. I'm afraid if he does, it would be… unpleasant for you. I don't really want that to happen, so I would prefer it if you remained honest with me."

Luna nodded her head. "I will. I don't lie."

"How do you know about Moratorium?" Harry demanded.

"I just do," Luna said. "The same way I know that the Nargles are quite annoying creatures."

Harry blinked. Wha…?

_Of course_, Moratorium sighed._ A Seer._

"You're a seer? Wait..."

How did Nargles prove she's a Seer?

Harry's brow furrowed as she thought carefully to how Moratorium came to that conclusion. A heartbeat passed before she let out an annoyed sigh. Marwyn had mentioned the Lovegoods before—he was describing what Harry would guess to be Luna's mother—saying that Mrs Lovegood was a prodigy Seer and an Unspeakable. Deviation was a very rare gift passed on through blood or chance. It would stand to reason that Luna would be a seer, as well. However, how her gift worked would remain up for question. Each Seer worked differently.

For some, they could only tell prophecies, for others they could find lost things. Mrs Lovegood, if Harry could recall, was a Seer that could see a person's past and dreams. More than likely Luna held a similar gift—perhaps she was able to see into a person's very heart, very soul? Or maybe just their dreams? Perhaps she was just gifted in knowing things—she had no specific area to know, she just _knew_.

If that was the case…

Harry sighed, sitting down in front of Luna. "I am… sorry for kidnapping you."

"It's quite alright. It was a little fun, actually. I've never been kidnapped before, you see," Luna told Harry, smiling serenely. Harry's lips twitched.

"Glad you think of it that way," Harry told her. "I don't suppose I could have your magical oath not to tell anyone about Moratorium and myself?"

"I don't see why not," Luna told Harry, holding up her wand. "I hereby swear on the name of Lovegood not to inform any other living creature about the connection between Harriet Potter and Moratorium, unless given permission by the aforementioned."

Harry blinked as Luna's wand sizzled a bright blue. "… That was… really easy. O-Okay. I was not expecting that to be easy."

Luna continued to smile serenely.

Harry eyed her another moment before smiling back. "I like you. Thank you for making that very easy. Allow me to walk you back to your class."

Luna nodded her head as Harry helped her up on her feet.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Harry waited patiently for the DADA class to file out before entering, rubbing the back of her head sheepishly. "Professor Lupin?"

Lupin glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "Ah. There you are. Might I ask where you were?"

Harry winced. "I lost track of time playing with Basileus."

Lupin blinked. "… Who? No… what?"

"My pet," Harry explained. "Professor Dumbledore said I could keep him at Hogwarts, because I can't really keep him anywhere else for the moment, but I have to keep him away from the other students, too. I'm really sorry, and I'm willing to take whatever punishment you want and retake the lesson at your leisure."

"Do you have any more classes for the day?"

"No," Harry replied.

"Then we can start now," Lupin said. "And there will be no punishment; so long as it does not happen again."

Harry's eyes lit up. "Thank you so much, Professor Lupin."

Lupin gave Harry a smile. "Not a problem, follow me, Harry…"

Harry gave a short nod, following behind Lupin as he entered the staffroom—the room was empty.

Lupin waved his hand. "Now do you see that wardrobe, Harry?"

"Yes; it's shaking."

"There's a boggart in there," Lupin said. "Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces. Wardobes, the gap beneath bed, the cupboards under sinks—I once met one that wedged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice. So the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a boggart?"

"A boogeyman," Harry said, smirking in amusement before dropping her smirk and clearing her throat. "A shape—shifter. It takes the shape of whatever it believes will frighten its victims the most."

"Nicely put," Lupin complimented. "So the boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out he will immediately become whatever you fear the most.

"The charm that repels a boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing. Let's practice the charm without wands first. After me, please… Riddikulus!"

"Riddikulus," Harry repeated.

"Good, but that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. Come here, let's begin practicing. Right, now Harry: What would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"

Harry hesitated.

"I—I honestly don't know," Harry confessed. "I've never… I—I don't know."

Lupin's eyebrows rose. "Then this might be a bit more difficult. The thing with boggarts and the spell, Riddikulus, is that you have to picture a humorous scene and say the word Riddikulus while focusing on the boggart. If all goes well, what you find humorous will then find its way on the boggart, or become the boggart, if you will."

"I can think of a few things I find funny," Harry said, "or at least mildly amusing. I'm willing to give it a try. Besides, I'm curious to what exactly I'm afraid of."

Lupin gave her a smile. "Very well."

Her wand poised and her stance shifted, Harry waited. Lupin waved his wand towards the wardrobe and the door opened. The wardrobe stopped shaking until a black gas fell out. The room dimmed and when the gas cleared, Harry felt her heart constrict and she felt cold in a way she did not expect to feel cold.

It was Moratorium.

Or at least, half of him. The person—creature—before her was half Moratorium, the entire left side a perfect description, and half Tom Riddle, once again the opposite side a perfect description. The creature smiled coldly and looked down to the floor. Harry felt her mouth dry as she saw very grotesque and horrified corpses. Parts of the bodies were turned inside out, other parts were burned and dismembered with worms and rats crawling all around them, but their faces—their faces were perfectly intact.

It was Lilly and James Potter.

And then there were more of them, not just them—Hermione, Draco, Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, Neville, Hagrid—and more and more and the creature before her said, "Loose ends, just had to be cut. You have only yourself to blame for getting too close."

It was then that Lupin stepped in front of her and the scene changed to that of a full moon, with clouds blocking it. Lupin raised his wand and cried out, "Riddikulus!"

The moon turned into a yellow balloon that popped and flew back into the wardrobe. Lupin shut the door behind it, locking it.

Harry was breathing heavily.

Silence was the only thing in the room.

Harry swallowed roughly, before turning on her heel and walking away.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

She stayed in the DADA room, calming her breath and heartbeat. It did not take long before the door opened and Lupin stepped in, his eyes widening in surprise at seeing her. "I assumed you had headed back to the dorms."

Harry shook her head. "I—I am sorry for walking out. I did not expect…"

Lupin waved his hand. "I suppose I should have considered that your fear would be more…"

"Stereotypical of a horror movie?" Harry offered, smiling wryly.

Lupin's lips twitched. "More unique. I must confess; I did not recognize…"

"It was me and Voldemort," Harry blurted out, her eyes widening and she instantly hated herself for the slip up. "A little different, I guess, but it was still me. I—I think the boggart changed the appearance to better match… to better match… Voldemort. And the boy—that was what Voldemort looked like during his fifth year at Hogwarts. I—I met him like that last year."

Lupin gave a slow nod, accepting this. "I see. You're fear…?"

"I—I think I'm afraid of turning out like him," Harry said quietly. _Afraid of becoming that hollow husk that was him my first year. At least, that's part of it_. "And I…"

"You're afraid of getting too close to them."

Harry's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. She did not say anything.

Lupin gave a small sigh, taking a seat on his desk. "I suppose I can understand why you're afraid. With someone as dangerous as Voldemort as an enemy… it would be understandable why you would worry you would be putting your friends in danger."

Harry nearly snorted.

_I'm not worried about _him_ killing them_, Harry thought. _I'm worried that _I_ will_.

"That does not mean you can't have any friends, though," Lupin said softly. "Everyone needs friends and family. You are not any different in that aspect."

Harry shrugged, not liking what Lupin was saying. Unable to resist, Moratorium sneered, "Family? No. I don't need family. I don't want family. The only family I have are the ones that I would not miss if they died."

"Surely you don't mean that…"

Moratorium and Harry gave Lupin a flat look.

Lupin frowned. "Family is—"

"Harmful. Poisonous. Not worth it," Harry interrupted coldly, her eyes narrowing. "It's none of your concern what and how I view family. You are not family. You are a stranger to me, so spare me your lectures."

Lupin looked away, his eyes downcast. "I… I know I am a stranger. And for that… I am sorry."

Harry's brow furrowed.

"And I am even more sorry that your view on family has become so tainted," Lupin finished softly.

The two fell into silence.

_I can't believe I allowed my good girl charade to slip up,_ Harry thought, annoyed. _The scene must have shaken me up more so than I originally thought. I should have given myself more time to compose myself. I'll make sure to do that next time._

Harry forced a bright smile on her face. "So, Professor Lupin? Do you have any idea how I can fight off a boggart with my specific fear?"

Lupin looked back up at her, his eyes darkening on her smile before he, too, forced a smile on his face. "You could always picture everyone breakdancing. Add in a disco ball and give them some rainbow afros."

Unable to help herself, Harry snorted in amusement. "That would be quite a scene. Disturbing. But quite a scene. If you don't mind, I'd like to try it."

"Of course, of course, right this way, then, Harry…"

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

The lesson was long, but in the end it was enough, when she pointedly asked Lupin about the extra lessons on the Patronus. He informed her he had already talked to Hermione and the others and they scheduled them after dinner every other day. She then pointedly left and went straight to the Chambers, summoning Basileus and pulling out Tom's diary.

After drawing the appropriate runes, she began the spell.

Roughly ten minutes of concentrating later, there was a small flare of light from the diary before a vapid shape began to take form. Basileus let out a small hiss from behind her—she was leaning against her precious pet—and Harry watched as the shape was finally formed.

There, floating a little above her was Tom Riddle.

Tom raised an eyebrow at her, looking down at his hands. "… What do we have here?"

Harry gave him a small smile. "A projection spell. It took me a while to find the appropriate one, but find it, I did. It takes the consciousness of a magical object and projects it off the object onto an anchor. Only the anchor and the caster of the spell will be able to speak, hear, and interact with projection."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Oh? So only you can hear and see me?"

"For the moment; correct," Harry said.

"_I take it the ssspell went according to plan_?" Basileus inquired.

"_Yes; thank you Basileus. I will leave the diary in your care, as instructed._"

Tom's brow furrowed. "You plan to leave my diary here?"

"_Correct_," Harry said, her smile becoming a bit more twisted. "_To ensure you won't betray me._"

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And how could I possibly do that?"

Harry shrugged. "_Who can say? You're clever, though, and I don't want to take chances. I have given explicit instructions to Basileus that if I die, he will use his venom to destroy the diary, thus killing you, as well. Also, by keeping the diary here with him; you won't be able to possess anyone else_."

"What's to stop me from possessing you?" Tom inquired, floating towards Harry with a smirk on his face.

Harry gave him a dubious expression. "_If you could have possessed me already, you would have_."

Tom gave her an annoyed look.

"So why do you have me out here, instead of just writing to me in the diary?"

"Because I am assuming writing to you leads to possession," Harry said dryly. "If not, you would have possessed Lucius or Draco, or some other more important and Slytherin-ish person."

Tom shrugged.

"And you are here, so you can see first—hand what a hollow husk you've become," Harry told him. That and I would like to earn your trust so you can confide to us about your plans and mistakes and whatnot. I can't really do that without talking to you, and I certainly won't talk to you through the diary and risk possession.

Tom snorted. "We shall see. So you expect me to just float around and follow you all day?"

"Well, I am the anchor, so you must be within ten meters of either me or your diary. And there's absolutely nothing going on down here, so the more entertaining thing to do would be to follow me around," Harry said reasonably. "But if you want to be bored out of your mind, go right ahead and stay here."

Tom pursed his lips. "I see your point."

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

"I'm quite excited for Hagrid," Hermione said the next day, walking alongside Harry and Ron. "It's his dream class, isn't it?"

"You're correct," Harry said.

"So long as it's not boring," Draco muttered, walking backwards and head of the trio. "Where's Neville?"

"Bathroom," Ron replied. "Did anyone else figure out how to open the books?"

"Stroke the spine," Harry said absently. "Dobby knew how, I thought I sent him to tell you guys. He said he told Fred and George and that they would tell you, Ron."

"Well, they didn't," Ron replied.

Draco snorted, turning back around to walk beside Hermione.

Hagrid was waiting for his class at the door of his hut. He stood in his moleskin overcoat, with Fang at his heels, impatient to start. When Fang spotted them, he hurried over to the group, affectionately nuzzling against Hermione and Harry. Harry bent down and patted the dog while Hagrid spoke.

"C'mon, now, get a move on!" he called as the class approached. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Grea' lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!"

Hagrid strolled off around the edge of the trees, and five minutes later, they found themselves outside a kind of paddock. There was nothing in there.

"Everyone gather 'round the fence here!" he called. "That's it—make sure yeh can see—now firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books."

The quartet easily opened their books, with the rest of the students watching them before mimicking them.

Harry gave a small, pleased sigh, idly stroking book. The book started to purr. "I quite like these books, Hagrid."

"I though' they were funny," Hagrid said, pleased with Harry's compliment.

"They are kind of cute," Hermione added.

"What have we here?" Tom asked idly, floating above the class with an eyebrow raised.

Trotting toward them were a dozen hippogriffs. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who came jogging onto the paddock behind the creatures.

"Oh, _God_. Draco, I'm doing this for your own good," Harry said, pointing her wand at him and sending out a Stupefy.

Tom snickered.

Draco fell to the floor, unconscious.

Hermione and Ron sighed, just as Neville arrived, red face. "Sorry I'm la—what happened to Draco?"

Hagrid looked up, confused at Neville's question before he frowned. "I don'… 'Arry, what happened?"

"It was for his own good," Harry said firmly. "I regret nothing."

"'Arry, you know better."

"His mother would completely agree with my actions," Harry insisted, recalling just how overprotective Narcissa was when it came to Draco's safety. Thanks to the club, Harry knew exactly how proud the creatures were, and thanks to being allies with Draco, she knew exactly how proud _he_ was.

"It really was for his own good," Neville added softly, catching up to what Harry had done when he saw the Hippogriffs. "You know how proud they are."

"Hippogriffs are proud creatures and will attack anyone else who does not show them the proper respect," Hermione explained to Ron.

She explained it loudly enough for the rest of the class to hear and there were plenty of collective nods.

"Really was for his own good," Pansy agreed.

"Well… I suppose if he's alrigh' when 'e wakes up, I'll let it slide…" Hagrid shook his head, still confused. "Bu' 'Arry, please don' do that again without my permission."

Harry hesitated. "I promise I will be more considerate next time I render Draco unconscious."

Hagrid smiled warmly. "Thank yeh. Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' Hippogriffs is, they're proud. Easily offended, Hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do. Yeh always wait for the Hippogriff ter make the firs' move. It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt. Right—who wants ter go first?"

"Me!" Harry squealed, rushing forward.

Hagrid beamed. "Good girl, Harry! Right then—let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak."

He untied one of the chains, pulled the gray Hippogriff away from its fellows, and slipped off its leather collar. The class on the other side of the paddock seemed to be holding its breath. Neville was nice enough to move Draco away and prop him up against a tree in the shade.

"Easy, now, Harry," Hagrid said quietly. "Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink… Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much…"

Tom's lips twitched and he started to hover downwards.

__I swear, if you try to startle me…__

Tom faltered, frowning at the projected words. Part of the spell allowed the anchor to speak privately with the projection. It took some mental focus, but Harry was able to do it.

"You're no fun," Tom sighed.

"That's it," said Hagrid. "That's it, 'Arry… now, bow…"

Harry gave a low bow, peering up at the Hippogriff. The Hippogriff was still staring haughtily at him. It—He didn't move.

A heartbeat passed before the Hippogriff suddenly bent its scaly front knees and sank into what was an unmistakable bow.

"Well done, Harry!" said Hagrid, ecstatic. "Right—yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!"

Excited and pleased, Harry eagerly stretched out a hand towards the majestic beast. Shee patted the beak several times and the Hippogriff closed his eyes lazily, as though enjoying it. The class broke into applause.

"Righ' then, 'Arry," said Hagrid. "I reckon he might let yeh ride him."

Harry looked up, excited and beamed at Hagrid.

"You seriously want to ride that creature?" Tom asked skeptically. "You do know how dangerous they are, right?"

__Quite. That's one of the reasons I want to ride them.__

"Now I'm starting to see why the damn hat put you in Gryffindor," Tom muttered.

Harry put one foot on the top of Buckbeaks' wing and hoisted herself on his back. Buckbeak stood up and Harry bent down, wrapping her arms around the beast's neck and nuzzling her cheek against him affectionately. "Awesome…"

Without warning the wings flapped open on either side of Harry, and before she knew it she was soaring high in the sky. It was nothing like riding a broomstick. With a broom, Harry had a firm hold and had control. With this, there was no control, no way to know when they would be going up or down or left or right. There was only the pleasant rush of adrenaline and the even more pleasant feel of the wind whipping around them. It was chaotic and risky and dangerous and stupid and Harry loved it. Moratorium hated it, but Harry didn't care what Moratorium thought.

Harry was very disappointed when Buckbeak landed.

Harry clung to his neck, giving Hagrid a pleading look. "Can I keep him? Please?"

Hagrid gave a booming laugh while the class erupted into relieved laughter.

"Very good, Harry! Okay, who else wants ter go?"

The class exchanged nervous glances before Neville gulped and raised a tentative hand. Hagrid smiled.

Harry still sat on Buckbeak, and Buckbeak didn't seem to mind at all. She gave Hagrid a pleading look.

"Alrigh', alrigh'. If he doesn' mind yeh up there, yeh can stay," Hagrid told her. Harry gave a gleeful giggle. Then again, without warning, Buckbeak took off into the sky.

"I—I didn' say yeh could fly again!"

Neither of the two in flight seemed to care.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

"My hair is a complete rat's nest from being thoroughly wind—blown, but it was worth it," Harry said firmly. Hermione gave an amused snort while Draco shot Harry another annoyed look.

"I hate you," Draco told Harry for the umpteenth time. He did wake up before class was over and Harry threatened to Stupefy him again if he so much as sneezed out of line. When Hermione explained the situation in more 'reasonable ways' he stopped threatening revenge and grudgingly—with great reluctance, but the promise of a very pissed off Harry seemed to merit truth—admitted it was for the best.

"I know," Harry dismissed, still smiling widely from her lesson with Buckbeak. "I think I'm going to buy him."

"Hagrid?" Ron asked, confused, as the group of students entered the Great Hall.

"I think she means the Hippogriff," Neville added.

Harry nodded before her eyes rested on Luna at the Ravenclaw table. "Luna!"

The blonde girl looked up, smiling. Harry gestured her over to their table and Luna nodded, moving.

Luna sat down next to Harry, while Harry sat next to Hermione, who sat next to Draco. Across from Draco was Ginny, who was next to Neville, who was next to Ron—who was across from Luna. Fred and George soon sat down next to Luna and Harry cleared her throat.

"Everyone, this my new ally, Luna Lovegood. Luna, this is Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Fred and George Weasley and—oh, there he is, Colin Creevy."

"Sorry I'm late," Colin apologized, sitting down. "Hello. Who's this?"

"Luna Lovegood," Luna introduced herself. "I can see the Nargles have infested you. I'm sorry."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, while the others shared confused looks. "Nargles…?"

"She's a Seer," Harry said pointedly and immediately the confused looks dissolved—with the exception of Hermione's.

"What does that mean?" Hermione asked.

"It means she sees things that most people don't," Draco explained.

"Kind of like deviation, only not really focused on the future," Neville elaborated.

Hermione gave a slow nod of acknowledgement. "Speaking of deviation, Harry, you're lucky you didn't take that class."

"How come?" Harry inquired.

"The professor that teaches the class does not see into the future like she claims," Luna answered vaguely.

Hermione snorted. "An understatement."

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

"Okay, team, we won last year, and the year before that… let's keep doing that!" Oliver declared fiercely. Harry sat neatly on her broom, right in between Fred and George as the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team floated high above the ground. Oliver was 'pacing' back and forth on his broom, ranting and raving about winning, his eyes glinting madly.

Harry, while she admired Oliver, did not share his enthusiasm for the sport and thus grew too bored to listen.

"… So what are your plans after graduating?" Harry asked casually, relaxing on her broom.

"We're going to open—"

"—a joke store."

"Really?" Harry inquired, finding interest. "That sounds like a very wise investment. You two are natural pranksters and you've come up with some ingenious ideas. May I invest in your store?"

Fred and George's eyes widened and they exchanged glances.

"Are you serious?" Fred asked quietly.

"Of course. I've made a few good investments in my time, so I've got a bit of money to spend. I think it would be wise to invest it in your idea," Harry said.

They exchanged glances again, seeming hesitant.

"What would you want?" George asked.

Harry gave them a thoughtful look. "Ten percent."

"That's all?" George and Fred asked incredulously.

"I don't need anymore, what do you say?"

"How much will you invest?"

"Will ten thousand galleons suffice?"

They looked ready to have a heart attack.

"Are—you—"

"Quite. I can have the money and a contract made up within a month. We can discuss more, later."

"Deal!" the twins exclaimed.

Oliver stopped in his pacing, distracted by the twin's outburst. "Excuse me?"

"Nothing," the trio chorused

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

"And so begins our first Patronus Charm practice," Lupin said to the small gathering. It had seemed that not only had Harry's alliances shown up, but a fair few of those on the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch team. It seemed that Draco informed a few of his own alliances, not that Harry cared.

Flint, however, was still sore about Harry dismissing him last year, so he kept shooting her glares.

Lupin cleared his throat. "Right then. The Patronus is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very things that the Dementor feeds upon—hope, happiness, the desire to survive—but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the Dementors can't hurt it. But I must warn you all, the Patronus Charm might be too advanced for you. Many qualified wizards have difficulty with it."

"What does a Patronus look like?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Each one is unique to the wizard who conjures it."

"And how do you conjure it?" Draco inquired.

"With an incantation, which will work only if you are concentrating, with all your might on a single, very happy memory."

Harry and the others began sorting through their memories and the majority of them seemed content with the memory they've chosen. Harry finally settled on the latest memory of riding Buckbeak. She wasn't sure what other memories she had that constituted as true happiness.

"Everyone got a memory?" Lupin asked. Everyone nodded.

"Alright, begin!"

With raised wands, they chorused, "Expecto Patronum!"

Little tufts of silvery wisps darted out of all of the upperclassmen's wands, as well as Hermione's, Draco's and Harry's.

"There's no rush. It takes practice," Lupin consoled. "We start again on three… One… Two… Three!"

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

"Oh, come on, Neville, you know you want to ride one again," Harry persisted. "Please? I'm not allowed to leave the school without someone with me and the others are too busy. Please?"

Neville still looked uncertain. "I don't know…"

"It's just to Hagrid's hut! Once I'm there, you can leave and Hagrid will walk me back, please?"

"Oh, okay," Neville said, relenting. "B—But only because I also want to go, I have more questions about Augureys."

Harry waved her hand in a dismissive manner before grabbing Neville's and dragging him to Hagrid's hut. There, she said a quick hello to Hagrid before running off to Buckbeak and proceeding to shower him in compliments.

When she was done complimenting him, she mounted him and laid on his back, completely content. Buckbeak wandered over to Hagrid's window, sticking his head inside while Hagrid poured tea for Neville.

"That's abou' all I know fer Augureys," Hagrid said, sitting down. "Oh, hullo, Harry, Buckbeak."

Harry gave Hagrid and Neville a lazy wave, still content with resting on Buckbeak.

"Hagrid?" Harry drawled, lightly running her finger through Buckbeak's feathers. "What's the most dangerous magical creature that you know of?"

"Why am I not surprised she asked that?" Neville sighed.

Hagrid gave a hum. "Humm… I would have ter say a Nundu."

Neville's eyes widened and he shuddered. "I agree!"

Harry's eyes lit up with interest. "Nundu's?"

"It takes roughly one hundred wizards to subdue a single Nundu," Tom said idly.

"Aye. They look like a muggle leopard, 'cept they're huge. Think Fluffy huge. And their breath is filled with toxins and disease—'nuff ta wipe out an entire village!"

"Damn," Harry said appreciatively. "… Are they tamable?"

"I just said it takes one hundred wizards to subdue a single Nundu," Tom exclaimed.

"Dunno. No one's really tried—well, 'cept this one wizard, uh… Eldon sumtin'… but, uh, his Nundu ate him. But he didn' really treat it real good, so…"

"Then I believe I will try," Harry declared.

"You're insane," Neville told Harry.

However, Hagrid just nodded at Harry, smiling. "I'll help!"

"You're insane, too," Neville told Hagrid.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Harry gave a small groan of annoyance in the Chambers as she tried and failed again to get so much more as a wisp of smoke from her wand.

Tom watched her lazily. "I don't really see why you want to learn it so badly."

"You saw the Dementors. I'd rather not have a run-in with them and not be able to deal with them," Harry said shortly.

Tom waved his hand in a dismissive manner. "There are other ways. Their loyalties are questionable at best, and so long as you can provide them with a new target, they won't hurt you."

Harry shot him an annoyed glare. "Not everyone has pawns they can send to their death."

Tom gave her a glower. "Don't be barbaric."

"That's rich, coming from you," Harry snarked. "You would stoop so low as to kill _children_."

"Ginny's death was a necessity. While I would have felt some remorse; my life is more important."

"I wasn't talking about Ginny," Harry snapped. "When I was only one year old, you were intent on murdering me—for reasons I still don't know about."

"Clearly you were a hazard to me and those under my protection," Tom said shortly. "Again, I would have been slightly upset at your death, but it would have been necessary for our protection."

Harry shook her head. "I disagree. You wouldn't have felt bothered at my death, at least not the future you. You certainly held no qualms about murdering me and my f—my own alliances when we were only in our first year. And you didn't even have to kill us. You could have just knocked us unconscious."

Tom's lips thinned. "I'm sure I had my reasons."

"I'm sure you've just gone off the deep end," Harry retorted.

Tom sneered. "If I'm so insane, why do I have such devoted followers—one going so far as to allow me to possess him?"

"Crazies attract crazies," Harry answered. "If you weren't so insane and sadistic, why did your supposedly most loyal followers defect and claim you used Imperius on them the moment you died?"

"They clearly weren't so loyal," Tom said pointedly. "My trust was misplaced, simple as that."

"Or maybe they did trust you," Harry said. "Maybe that's why you trusted them in the first place. Because they were sincere in that trust, but then maybe, just maybe, you started losing it. You pushed them and broke that trust and so you lost them."

"You're implying I abused them," Tom said, his eyes narrowed.

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Don't be ridiculous," Tom said firmly. "I'm not an idiot. My followers were meant to _devote_ themselves to me, to _trust_ and _respect_ me. Not to fear me. If they feared me, that would be far too risky."

Harry frowned. "How so?"

Tom gave her a condescending look. "Everyone has a breaking point, Harry. By living in constant fear of me, by me pushing them further and further to that point, I risk them reaching that point. And when a person reaches their breaking point, when they are shattered beyond repair, one of two things happen: they're either completely useless to me, or they become a very dangerous enemy. They will either become docile vegetables, or rebellious creatures hell—bent on revenge for their torment. And if they reach that breaking point, and if they become those rebellious creatures… what makes them so dangerous is that they truly would believe they have nothing to lose."

Tom's eyes narrowed. "There is nothing more dangerous than an enemy who believes they have nothing left to lose, and everything to gain from your demise."

Harry processed his words, thinking carefully. Moratorium gave a small nod in agreement.

"You're right," Harry said. "So that was your original plan, then? For them to follow you out of respect and belief, not fear?"

"Yes," Tom said blandly. "That's why I took the pureblood route—well, one of the reasons. There are quite a few witches and wizards who firmly believe in that. It was an easy belief to exploit."

Harry lowered her wand, chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully. "If that was one of your reasons, you could have easily gone with the pro-Muggleborns. That was—_is_—just as popular a belief. Actually, it's even more popular than the pureblood belief today."

"I could have, and I _did_ consider it," Tom allowed. "However… I had personal reasons for choosing the pureblood route."

"Reasons, such as…?"

Tom only gave her a mocking smile.

Harry frowned.

_His smile… reminds me a lot like my own._

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Harry pulled the twins aside one evening, a bag of galleons in one hand, and a short stack of papers in the other. She guided them to a secluded area in the empty common room, opened the bag of galleons and presented them with the contract.

She smiled, while they stared at the sack of galleons.

"This is the contract. Read it at your leisure, we have all night, and feel free to count the money."

The twins exchanged glances before both began to read the contract.

The deal was signed and made that very evening.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

"So… silent spells. Teach. Now."

Harry looked up, the following day of her conversation with Tom, and tilted her head. "On two conditions. One; we find some place where no one can disturb us—and I mean _no one_—and two; only_ I_ can invite people to the study group."

"Where am I supposed to find some place where no one can disturb us?" Draco whined.

Harry shrugged. "How am I supposed to know? That's your job if you want me to teach you."

"I hate you," Draco told Harry.

Harry only smiled, amused.

Draco gave another sigh before leaving Harry alone and back to her game of Wizards Chess with Tom.

"Knight to B4," Tom said and Harry moved his piece of accordingly.

Harry eyed the board for a minute or two, contemplating her choices before finally moving her Bishop.

"You know silent spells?" Tom asked.

__Some. I'm trying wandless spells, and I find that I have to be intimately familiar with a spell if I have so much as a smidgeon of chance with them. You'll get to see me practice, soon enough.__

"I always had the most trouble with wandless spells," Tom said thoughtfully. "At the point in my life where I made the diary, I could only use two spells wandlessly."

Harry looked, awarding Tom with a smile. __That's better than what I can say for myself_._

Tom's lips twitched. "Queen to D5."

__How's your aptitude for silent spells?__

"Very well, it's something I actually pride myself on. I find that in order to use silent spells—and wandless spells—all you really need is a focus mind. I know how to use silent spells for every spell I know," Tom said, pride clear in his voice.

__Very talented indeed_._ Harry allowed. __However, were you doing silent spells in your second year?__

Tom smirked. "Actually, I was."

"Damn it," Harry grumbled out loud, knocking her king over. __You win this time, Tom.__

"And I will the next time, too," Tom promised, chucking in amusement at Harry's obvious annoyance.

Harry felt her lips twitch upwards.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Some weeks passed by before the next eventful thing occurred. Harry decided it was high time to receive that map and she wanted to do something that was well before the Quidditch team, so nothing would get her kicked off the team. Because if she did do that and she was kicked off the team, Oliver would kill her.

Painfully.

And she did _not_ want that to happen.

After Dobby had brought Harry all the necessary supplies and Harry finished perfecting the spells required, Harry then patiently waited for the evening feast. While all her friends gathered down in the Great Hall, Harry slipped into her costume.

Harry eyed it in the mirror, frowning. It was a little too… mature for her taste, but it was the only one Dobby could find in her size and Harry didn't really want to specially order a costume—as it would take too long for it to be made and it would be a waste of money on just this one occasion.

It was a lioness outfit. A Gryffindor lioness outfit, complete with red tights and golden pointy cloth shoes and a one-piece swimsuit shaped golden outfit. She wore long red gloves that matched the tights and at the ends of the gloves, she wore big fuzzy lion paws. She drew whiskers on her face, coloring her nose, as well. Her hair was pulled up in a bun and she wore a golden colored hood with lion ears at the top. She even added a special tail.

"Not really a Griffin, but a lioness is close enough," Harry murmured in the mirror before grabbing her broom and wand. "This damn straight better get me that map."

"Are you really going to do this?" Tom asked, incredulous.

"Yes," Harry said.

"Why don't you just steal the map?"

"Because—" Harry sighed, stopping herself. "That's what _Moratorium_ would do. Right now, I'm Harry Potter, and _Harry Potter_ would indulge her allies."

"Moratorium, Moratorium," Tom drawled, "just who _is_ Moratorium? You keep mentioning him. Is he your…?"

"You'll meet him soon enough," Harry said. "And then you can talk to him as much as you want."

"So he'll be able to interact with me, as well?" Tom asked, sounding faintly interested.

Harry nodded her head.

Harry waited a couple more minutes, waiting until the feast was in full swing, before she then hopped onto her broom and soared through the halls of Hogwarts. She flew into the Great Hall, shooting off as many spells as she could at the tables, before casting a final one at the professors' table. She was noticed fairly quickly and she shouted out, "Gryffindor forever!"

The tip of her wand glowed a bright yellow before the entire room was covered in a light and red showing.

When the light cleared, the entire room was dripping with red and gold paint, and the students' hair was dyed either a bright red or a sharp gold—the only exception to the mess being the food, and the professors' table.

She then let out her last enchantment out of her wand, which let out a flurry of sparks before an illusion was cast of fireworks shooting out of her wand in the shapes of Griffons, each one letting out a fearsome roar that shook the entire place before erupting into a shower of sparks.

There was a moment of silence before the entire Gryffindor table erupted into applause, stomping their feet and chanting, "Gryf-fin-dor! Gryf-fin-dor! Gryf-fin-dor!

The Hufflepuff was not long behind them, only they were chanting their own names as the upperclassmen began changing the red dyes on their hair to black, "Huf-fle-puff! Huf-fle-puff! Huf-fle-puff!"

Then came the Slytherins, changing their dyed hair to the appropriate silver and green, "Slyth-er-in! Slyth-er-in! Slyth-er-in!"

Finally the Ravenclaws, enchanting their hair to the silver and blue, "Ra-ven-claw! Ra-ven-claw! Ra-ven-claw!"

Harry's waved her wand for another fearsome roar before she then floated down to her table, taking a seat in between Fred and George who were clapping their hands and patting her back—and soon enough it wasn't just them—and other Gryffindor students came over and patted her back and cheered.

Harry looked up at the staff table, meeting the amused eyes of Dumbledore, the equally amused and melancholy eyes of Lupin, and the beaming and happy eyes of Hagrid. She tried to avoid the furious glare of Snape and the disapproving—yet—approving look of McGonagall.

"So did I earn the map?" Harry asked over the cheering.

The twins exchanged glances before both of them gave Harry thumbs up.

Harry beamed.

"Such a Gryffindor," Tom said disdainfully.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

The punishment was cleaning up the entire Great Hall, but Harry didn't mind it so much, because her frie—alliances actually came to help. Well, most of them. Fred, George, their friend, Lee Jordan, Hermione, Luna, Neville, Ginny and Ron…

They actually had fun doing it. Making a game out of it and bickering between them and talking and laughing…

When they were done, George and Fred wrapped their arms around Harry's shoulder, guiding her away from the group to a secluded area. There, Fred presented the map.

"And here, our protégé, is the Marauders Map," Fred said, handing it to Harry.

"To access it, say, I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

George tapped the map lightly and just as before life came to the parchment—only instead of going straight to the map, words were spread out.

_Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs_

_Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief—Makes_

_are proud to present_

_THE MARAUDER'S MAP_

"Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs," sighed George, patting the heading of the map. "We owe them so much.

"Noble men, working tirelessly to help a new generation of law—breakers," said Fred solemnly.

"Right," said George briskly. "Don't forget to wipe it after you've used it—"

"—or anyone can read it," Fred said warningly.

"Just tap it again and say, 'Mischief managed!' And it'll go blank."

"So, Harry—kins," said Fried in an uncanny impersonation of Percy, "mind you behave yourself."

"See you later," George said, winking.

Harry grinned at them.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Entering Transfiguration a couple weeks later, Ron nudged Harry. "Harry, don't forget to ask McGonagall if you can go to Hogsmeade."

Harry glanced at Ron, giving a shrug.

"I'll ask," Harry promised before she slid into her seat next to Hermione.

When class was over, Professor McGonagall called out, "One moment, please! As you're all in my House, you should hand Hogsmeade permission forms to me before Halloween. No form, no visiting the village, so don't forget!"

Neville raised a hand. "Please, Professor, I—I think I've lost—"

"Your grandmother sent yours to me directly, Longbottom," she replied. "She seemed to think it was safer. Well, that's all, you may leave."

"Ask her now," Ron insisted.

"Oh, but—" Hermione began.

"Go for it, Harry," Ron said.

Harry waited for the rest of the class to disappear, then headed for McGonagall's desk.

"Yes, Potter?"

Harry opened her mouth and said, "My guardians refused to sign the permission form, claiming I wasn't allowed to have fun. I was hoping that perhaps you could…"

"I'm afraid not, Potter," McGonagall said. "You heard what I said. No form, no visiting the village. That's the rule. The form clearly states that the parent or guardian must give permission. I'm sorry, Potter, but that's my final word. You had better hurry up, or you'll be late for your next lesson."

Harry pursed her lips, not surprised by McGonagall's answer, and her face became carefully blank. "I understand completely, _Professor McGonagall_."

Moratorium just couldn't resist adding a mocking tone at the end, before Harry turned on her heel and strode out.

Tom's brow furrowed as Harry brushed past her frie—_allliances, damn it!_

"What do you mean your guardians claimed you weren't allowed to have fun?" He asked incredulously.

Harry originally intended to ignore Tom, but she remembered Lockhart's lesson in gaining trust with the press. In gaining trust, period. _You had to give a little trust before you expected any in return._

Harry turned around the corner, disappearing from sight and entering Myrtle's bathroom. She then went straight into the Chambers. Only there, certain no one else would disturb then, did she sigh.

"My guardians are…" she seemed to struggle for the right words, "… they don't like me."

_Putting it lightly_, Moratorium chided.

"I…" Harry hesitated, looking away from Tom and leaning against a stone wall. "For the majority of my life, my room was a cupboard under the stairs and…"

Harry was having a lot of trouble admitting this out loud, it was even more difficult that she was admitting it to someone she didn't particularly like or trust. But perhaps that's what made it easier, too. Sometimes it was just easier to talk to a stranger about things, than it was someone you were… close to.

"… and I was the scapegoat for a lot of things," Harry finished quietly.

Tom did not respond, his fingers twitching and his face completely blank. "What do you mean?"

Harry's hands shook and she carefully lifted up her shirt, turning her back to Tom.

There was a tense silence.

"I… see."

Harry let her shirt drop, grabbing a hold of her hands. It felt _soverywrong_ and _soveryveryweird _to show someone. It was something she had kept to herself for such a long time—something she had intended to take to her grave, but if she wanted her answers, she knew she would have to be honest. Besides, it didn't really count with him—he wasn't really a person at that moment. She could very easily imagine him as just an ignorant version of Moratorium. That somehow made things easier. "I learned very quickly that I could never become a good girl in their eyes. I learned very quickly how the bad boy was never hurt. That he never lost like I—like a good girl did. You asked me about Moratorium. Moratorium… Moratorium is me. I created him because I was t-tired of losing… of the… of the punishments and treatment. He… He was… is…"

Harry trailed off, her eyes falling downcast.

"Do they still…?"

"Not directly," Harry said quietly. "They're afraid of me. So they've become more passive."

Tom glanced away, his face still blank. "I see."

She cleared her throat. "It doesn't matter.

Harry turned back away, intent on heading off to her next class. "I better hurry, or I'll be late."

"Is that why you don't like adults?"

Harry paused.

"You tolerate them, but I've seen the difference. You're more wary of young adults than you are of other students and older adults," Tom said, his eyes fixated on Harry's. "That's why you were so suspicious of Quirrel—not only because of the way had your scar felt, you were _looking_ for reasons to distrust him. That's why you were disrespectful of Snape on your first day, also, wasn't it? Testing him. He reminded you of them and you wanted to see just how much like them he was. And just today, with McGonagall, you weren't surprised by her reaction. You were _expecting_ her to let you down.

"Any adult you encounter, you look for reasons to distrust them, or use them," Tom said, his face still blank. "You either have total power over them, and if you don't, you look for reasons to dislike them, for reasons to be wary of them."

Harry turned back around, her eyes meeting Tom's and her face carefully blank. "Then what about Professor Dumbledore?"

"You don't trust him fully, either. You like him, and that's exactly why you don't like him, too," Tom said softly.

"And how do _you_ know this? Who are you to—"

"I know," Tom said quietly. "Because I was—am—the same."

Harry's eyes widened at the implications.

"You were—your guardians—"

"You should get to class," Tom interrupted. "You're going to be late."

Harry gave a slow nod, her eyes lingering a moment longer on Tom.

She turned on her heel and went to class.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

On Halloween morning, Harry awoke with the rest and went down to breakfast, completely apathetic to the upcoming event.

"I can't believe you're not going," Neville sighed.

"Do you want us to bring you back anything?" Luna offered.

"No, no thank you. I just won't be tagging along with the rest of you, but that doesn't mean I won't be going."

"Oh, but Harry, isn't that dangerous?" Hermione asked, startled.

Even Draco looked mildly concerned. "With Black and the Dementors running around, I don't think you should leave the castle alone."

"Don't worry about me," Harry dismissed their worries. "I'm not overly concerned about them. A little annoyed, yes, but not really concerned."

"Of course you aren't," Ron sighed.

After her frie_—DAMN IT_! _ALLIANCES_!—left, Harry wandered the halls for a while, making sure to give her friends quite a head start before she took the tunnels. It was after walking along another corridor when a voice inside one of the rooms said, "Harry?"

Harry paused, turning to see who had spoken and found it was Professor Lupin, looking around his office door.

"What are you doing?" asked Lupin. "Where are your friends?"

"Hogsmeade."

"Ah," said Lupin. He considered Harry for a moment. "Why don't you come in? I've just taken a delivery of grindylow for our next lesson.

"A what?"

She followed Lupin into his office. In the corner rested a very large tank of water, where a sickly green creature with sharp little horns had its face pressed against the glass, making faces and wiggling its fingers.

"Water demon," answered Lupin, surveying the grindylow thoughtfully. "We shouldn't have much difficulty with him, not after the kappas. The trick is to break his grip. You notice the abnormally long fingers? Strong, but very brittle."

"That's a bit of a contradiction," Harry observed.

Lupin's lips twitched. "Cup of tea? I was just thinking of making one."

"Alright."

Lupin tapped the kettle with his wand and a blast of steam insured suddenly from the spout.

"Sit down," said Lupin, taking the lid off a dusty tin. "I've only got teabags, I'm afraid."

"That's fine," Harry said, taking a seat. Tom floated over and hovered next to her, sitting on the air with his legs crossed.

There was a quiet knock on the door.

"Come in," called Lupin.

The door opened, and in came Snape. He was carrying a goblet, which was smoking faintly, and stopped at the sight of Harry, his eyes narrowing.

"Ah, Severus," said Lupin, smiling while Harry's eyes remained on the potion. "Thanks very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?"

__Correct me if I'm wrong, but is that Wolfsbane?__

Tom's eyes narrowed as he studied it. "I believe you're right."

Snape set the smoking goblet down, his eyes wandering between Harry and Lupin.

"I was just showing Harry my grindylow," said Lupin pleasantly, gesturing to the water demon.

"Fascinating," said Snape dryly. "You should drink that directly, Lupin."

"Yes, yes, I will," said Lupin.

"I made an entire cauldronful," Snape continued, "if you need more."

"I should probably take some again tomorrow. Thanks very much, Severus."

"Not at all," Snape said. He eyed the two a moment longer before backing out of the room.

When he was gone, Harry raised an eyebrow. "You're a werewolf?"

Lupin's smile slipped. "I beg your pardon?"

Harry gestured to the potion. "Wolfsbane."

"How did you recognize…?"

"I brewed it once," Harry admitted. "About once every month or so, I randomly choose a potion to brew to see if I can brew it. It keeps me entertained. I remember Wolfsbane in particular because Basileus kept complaining about the smell."

"You can brew it? On your own?" Lupin asked, his eyes widening. "That's quite impressive."

"Not really," Harry and Tom said blandly—though Tom muttered it. Harry's lips twitched. "The thing with potions is, the only reason there aren't all that many potion masters is because it just requires focus and takes a while. Most people have trouble focusing on one thing for too long, and even more have trouble following directions to the t."

Lupin gave her a faint smile. "I suppose that's true."

"I'm not judging you on the fact that you're a werewolf," Harry informed him truthfully. "It really makes no difference to me. You're a good teacher; you aren't even really malicious or vicious. The fact that you grow more hair and fangs a few times a month doesn't change that."

"That's… a very nice way of looking at it," Lupin said softly.

Harry blinked. "No. It's just the way it is. I doubt you wanted to be one, so why should I blame you for something you had no say in? Why should I resent you for it? Besides, werewolves don't frighten me. And my pet can _totally_ kick your ass, so that makes me feel a little better."

Tom snorted. "I would love to see that. A pack of werewolves versus Basileus."

__Basileus would destroy them. It would be so one—sided.__

"I know. I just want to see him kicking arse. I've never seen him in a real fight before."

"Your pet? The one you lost track of time playing with?" Lupin ventured. "Might I ask exactly what he is?"

"Only if you promise not to tell," Harry said, smiling fondly.

"I promise," Lupin said solemnly.

"He's a Basilisk. Last year when the Chamber of Secrets opened, I found the Chamber and inside was a Basilisk. He's my companion now."

Lupin's mouth dropped open and he spluttered, "Wh-What? How did you get…?"

"To make it fair that I know a secret of yours, I'll tell you a secret of mine," Harry said lightly, "I'm a Parselmouth."

A look of understanding crossed Lupin's face and he nodded his head, accepting the knowledge. "I see. And Dumbledore… lets you…?"

"Professor Dumbledore informed me that he was all mine," Harry said, grinning brightly at the thought of her dear pet. "When I'm old enough to live on my own, I intend to buy a very large piece of land and move him in with me. Him and Buckbeak, of course."

Lupin gave a small chuckle. "Hagrid told me about him and you. He said every time your club gets together, you head straight for Buckbeak and sit on him the entire time."

"Yes. He lets me groom and shower him in affection, too," Harry confided excitedly.

"You're such an animal lover," Tom sighed.

Lupin gave a smile. "I'm glad you're happy."

Harry blinked in surprise at that. "What? Happy? What makes you think that?"

Lupin gestured to my face. "It's all over your face. You really love your pets; they make you happy."

Harry looked away thoughtfully.

"What? Haven't you ever been happy before?" Lupin teased.

"No, I haven't," Harry said softly, thoughtfully. "Not the way I am when I think of them, at least. Not so warm."

Lupin's smile slipped and he gave Harry a confused look.

Harry cleared her throat. "So tell me, I'm curious…"

And so, Harry successfully changed the subject.

Surprisingly, Harry never went to Hogsmeade, too entertained with her time with Lupin.

She found… she very much liked Lupin.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

At the end of the feast, the Gryffindor group headed up the stairs, Harry bemoaning that she didn't go to Hogsmeade when she so clearly could, and Hermione praising her for not going.

Harry gave Hermione another dirty look, to which Hermione only smiled at, but stopped when she noticed the large group that had surrounded the Fat Lady.

"Why isn't anyone going in?" asked Ron curiously.

"I'll check," Harry said, pulling out her very small broom from her pocket before tapping her wand against it. It grew back to its original size and she climbed on it. Ron, Neville and Ginny gaped at her while Hermione sighed.

"That's against the rules," Hermione told her.

"I regret nothing," Harry replied honestly, flying above the rest of them and drifting lazily over to the painting.

__Thank you, again, for the idea.__

Tom shrugged, floating lazily beside her.

"Let me through, please," came Percy's voice, and he bustled through the crowd, stopping short when he noticed Harry. "Harry…"

Harry gave him a smile, winking. "There's not specifically in the rules against it."

Percy flushed before deciding to ignore her and continued on his way.

And then a silence fell over the crowd when Percy reached the portrait. In a sharp voice he said, "Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick."

A moment later, Professor Dumbledore was there, sweeping toward the portrait; the Gryffindors squeezed together to let him through.

Harry drifted over to the painting.

The Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor; great chunks of it had been torn away completely.

Dumbledore took one quick look at the ruined painting, his eyes somber, to see Professors McGonagall, Lupin and Snape hurrying toward him.

"We need to find her," said Dumbledore. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady.

"You'll be lucky!" cackled a voice.

"Damn it, no one's banished him, yet?" Tom groaned.

Peeves the Poltergeist bobbed over the crowd, looking delighted as he always did at the sight of wreckage or worry.

"What do you mean, Peeves?" said Dumbledore calmly, and Peeve's grin faded a little. He didn't dare taunt Dumbledore. Instead, he adopted an oily voice that was no better than his cackle.

"Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful."

"Did she say who did it?" asked Dumbledore quietly.

"Oh, yes, Professorhead," said Peeves, with the air of one cradling a large bombshell in his arms. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see. Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."

Harry's eyes widened. __He did all of that to the Fat Lady… just to get to me? Oh my God! My baby!__

Without waiting for anyone else to respond, Harry shot off in the direction of the Chambers. Myrtle blinked in surprise at seeing her. "Something wrong, Harry?"

"Sirius Black attacked the Fat Lady—she's off hiding—I have to go check on my baby!" Harry said quickly before unlocking the way to the Chambers and diving through, still on her broom. In no time, she was in the Chambers.

"_Basileus? Sweetheart, are you here_?"

There was quiet hissing and Harry let out a relieved sigh.

"_Isss sssomething wrong, missstresss_?"

"_An enemy of mine has made the first move. I was just concerned for you, so I came down here to check on you_."

Basileus lifted his massive head and rose high above Harry and Tom. Harry could feel the anger rolling off of him. "_Sssomeone dares to threaten you? Were you hurt, misstress_s?"

"_No, I'm fine_," Harry assured him.

"_You should ssstay here. I will keep you sssafe_."

"He's right. This is the safest place in Hogwarts for you against him," Tom agreed. "Remember, if he kills you, I automatically die, too."

Harry pursed her lips. "_I'll ask Professor Dumbledore_."

"Dobby," Harry called out.

Dobby appeared. "Yesses?"

"Would you mind asking Professor Dumbledore if I should stay in the Chambers? Basileus is worried about me and wants to keep me here."

"Right away!" Dobby squeaked before disappearing.

A couple of heartbeats passed before Dobby returned. "Professor Dumbledore requests you stay with the other Gryffindors, but he says you can visit Basileus afterwards and if he still insists, you have permission to stay with him."

"Very well," Harry sighed, relaying what had been spoken to Basileus. He dipped his head in acknowledgement.

Harry hopped off her broom, shrinking it back down to size before requesting for Dobby to take her to the group. Dobby teleported her straight to where the rest of the Gryffindors were gathered—in the Great Hall.

"Where did you go?" demanded Hermione the moment she noticed her.

"To check on my baby," Harry explained.

"You love that snake more than you value your life!" Ron accused.

"Yes, and I don't regret it."

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

On the way back down to visit Basileus before heading off to class, Harry paused, glancing at Tom.

"Tom?" Harry asked softly, entering the Chambers.

"Yes?"

"When I told you—when I told you about my guardians, you said you were the same. I… why did you trust me with that?"

Tom looked away, choosing to float ahead. "Because I don't think anyone should have our lives."

Harry faltered in her footsteps. "Are you implying that in that moment… you actually sympathized with me?"

"No. Yes. Maybe. I don't know. You're the first person I've met that has a similar…" Tom trailed off. "I know that _I_ would have certainly liked it if I met someone else like us early on in Hogwarts. It would have made the adjustment… easier."

"Adjustment?"

Tom did not reply and Harry let the subject drop.

After all, it was already quite enough that he shared such information with her at all. She could understood why he would have wanted someone else with a similar background at Hogwarts with him—she didn't realize she had wanted someone like that, until he mentioned it. It was… nice_. Nice to know that you're not quite alone in the world, nice to know… that you really aren't the worst person in the world like they say you are. That there's someone else right there… who's just as broken as you._

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Harry and Hermione sat next to each other in the next DADA class, whispering quietly to each other.

"I kind of like Sir Cadogan. It's fun dueling him," Harry confessed.

"You're an adrenaline junkie who loves a challenge, it's annoying the rest of us—to the _normal_ people," Hermione retorted.

"Oh, hush. You love his riddles and you are _not_ normal," Harry said, rolling her eyes.

It was then that Professor Snape strolled in, shutting the door behind him, with his black cloak billowing behind him.

"… Where's Professor Lupin?"

"He says he is feeling too ill to teach today," said Snape with a twisted smile as he took a seat at the desk.

"What's wrong with him?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing life-threatening," he said, looking as though he wished it were. "Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far—"

"Please, sir, we've don't boggarts, Red Caps, kappas and grindylows," said Hermione quickly, "and we're just about to start—"

"Be quiet," said Snape coldly. "I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organization."

"He's the best DADA teacher we've ever had," said Dead boldly and there was a murmur of agreement from the rest of the class. Snape looked furious.

"You are easily satisfied. Lupin is hardly overtaxing you—I would expect first years to be able to deal with Red Caps and grindylows. Today we shall discuss… werewolves."

Harry's eyes narrowed into slits.

"But, sir," said Hermione, seemingly unable to restrain herself, "we're not supposed to do werewolves yet, we're due to start hinky-punks—"

"Miss Granger," said Snape in a voice of deadly calm. "I was under the impression that I was teaching this lesson, _not_ you. And I am telling you all to turn to page 394. All of you! _Now_!"

With many bitter sidelong looks and sullen mutterings, the class opened their books, the exception being Harry, whose eyes were narrowed even further. She felt a strong sense of annoyance bubbling inside of her.

"Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?" drawled Snape.

Everyone sat in motionless silence, the exception being Hermione whose hand shot into the air.

"Anyone?" Snape asked, ignoring Hermione. His twisted smile was back. "Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between—"

"We told you," said Parvati, "we haven't got as far as werewolves yet, we're still on—"

"Silence!" snarled Snape. "Well, well, _well_, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are…"

"Please, sir," said Hermione, "the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf—"

"That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger," said Snape coolly. "Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."

Hermione went very red, slowly put her hand down and stared at the floor with eyes full of tears.

The annoyance Harry had felt turned into a cold rage and Moratorium stood up from the desk.

In a silky voice he purred, "Professor Snape, where's your proof?"

Snape's eyes rounded on him. "Excuse me, Potter?"

"Thirty years ago there was an incident involving a substitute teacher for the potion's class," Moratorium said, smiling coldly. "I believe you know what I'm talking about. Since then, whenever a teacher is required to substitute a Hogwarts class, proof of the allowed substitution is required. Where is your proof that you have Professor Lupin's permission? And if you have the proof, then Professor Lupin would have also informed you exactly where we should be studying. The fact that you have not presented us with this proof, and the fact that you apparently choose to remain ignorant to what we are studying, presents you in a poor light, _Professor_."

Moratorium's smile slipped and he gave him a flat look. "Give us proof, or _get out_."

Snape's face had gone thunderous and in a very quiet, yet tightly furious voice he said, "Fifty points from Gryffindor."

"You hold no proof, then," Moratorium said, completely unminding of the point loss. It spoke volumes how much the class hated Snape, as no one seemed to care about the point loss, either.

"Dobby!" Moratorium said sharply as the House Elf appeared. "It appears Professor Snape is violating a Hogwarts rule, therefore I am allowed to take the appropriate action. Dobby, take Professor Snape out of the classroom and keep him out until he gives us the appropriate proof we need."

"Yesses, Misses Potter!" Dobby chirped before snapping his fingers—and he and Snape were gone.

"Can I teach?" Tom asked suddenly.

__What?__

"Through you. Can I tell you what to do… and teach the class?"

__... Sure.__

Harry strode to the front of the room, smiling cheerily at everyone. "Seeing how we have no teacher, does anyone mind if I lead the class? I promise I know what I'm doing."

The class exchanged glances before shaking their heads in a collective way.

Tom smiled. "Alright… Tell them to turn to page…"

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

The class was laughing, smiles all around at the end of the lesson. Tom was beaming with quiet pride and smugness when the bell rang.

"Awesome class!" Ron exclaimed and Hermione and Neville nodded their heads in agreement.

Harry shrugged. "I can't believe Snape didn't come back with proof, though."

"He was probably too spitting mad," Ron laughed and Neville gave a nervous chuckle. Hermione gifted Harry with a sheepish smile.

"Thank you for… you know," Hermione said, blushing lightly in sheepish embarrassment.

"Any time," Harry promised.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Harry eyed the darkening weather, shivering on her broomstick. At Tom's request, she had enchanted her goggles—specially made for Quidditch—to repel the water. A very neat little trick that she was very glad to have learned.

She let out a sneeze, her eyes roaming around the—

_Doggy_? Harry blinked in surprise at the silhouette of a very familiar dog, and her eyes drifted down to find the very same dog from the summer sitting motionlessly in the topmost, empty row of seats.

_Holy_ _shit_, Harry thought.

"Snitch behind you," Tom said.

Harry whirled around, dismissing the dog for the moment and spotting the golden snitch… with Cedric right behind it. Harry urged her broom forward and soon enough, she and Credric were racing side—by—side for the snitch. They flew higher and higher into the air and Harry felt colder and colder unti—

"Harry. Get out of there. Now."

Harry's eyes snapped away from the snitch a moment longer before she noticed that at least a hundred Dementors were closing in on them—on her. Harry's eyes widened and she shouted over the winds, "Cedric!"

Cedric's head snapped towards her and he noticed the Dementors. Harry could scarcely make out his widening eyes.

"Get Dumbledore!" Harry shouted. "It's me they're after!"

She then dove sharply away from Cedric, climbing upwards.

__Is he going?__

"He's diving back to the field, I believe he is. The Dementors are following you, now," Tom said.

Harry gritted her teeth, feeling a rush of coldness inside of her. It was getting harder to grip the broom.

"Harry? Harry stay conscious—stay with me," Tom said sharply. "You need to part the clouds so Dumbledore can see and help you. Do you have your wand?"

"A-Always," Harry whispered, feeling a shudder rake through her as the Dementors continued to chase her. She dove into the clouds and zig-zagged in a vain attempt to escape their focus. Her hands were shaking as she pulled out her wand from her right boot.

"Repeat after me; Flitilis. Move your wand sharply upwards," Tom said firmly.

Harry shuddered again and a soft groan escaped her.

"F-F-_Flitilis_!"

Nothing happened.

"At once," Tom hissed. "Hurry!"

Harry was shaking more violently and she felt so cold; her goggles were frosted over and it took every ounce of strength she had to try again.

"_Flitilis_!"

All at once the clouds parted around her—like the eye of a storm and Harry saw the sky above them and Harry gave another shudder, her teeth chattering and her grip loosening. She heard Tom suck in a sharp breath and could barely make out his eyes widening. Her vision was darkening and there were voices dancing around in Harry's ears.

_"Not Harriet, not Harriet, please not Harriet!"_

_"Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside, now…"_

There was a flash of gold before Harry's eyes and she instinctively reacted to it.

_"Not Harriet, please no, take me, kill me instead—"_

Numbness spread across Harry and she lost her grip on her broom, she barely remembered to tuck her wand back in her boot before she started to free—fall… into a pit of Dementors.

They surrounded her, hoarded her and she struggled against their cold brushes—she kicked and punched and twisted, but there was just so many of them. Their faces pressed against hers and a scream was caught in her throat, unable to escape. More memories, different memories played inside her head. The crack, crack, _crack_ of the leather—the cry, cry, _cry_ of her sobs all alone as she was stuffed inside the trunk of the car—the wishing, wishing, _wishing_, but never, ever, receiving and the silent shattering of dreams—

Through the corner of her eyes she could see white-silvery dots heading towards them, but they were so very far away.

_"Not Harriet! Please… have mercy… have mercy…"_

A shrill voice was laughing and the familiar woman was screaming and Harry was getting colder and number and then—

"Harry, stay with me, please…"

Harry knew no more.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Harry creaked her eyes open, her body cold, but not as cold as before. Her mouth was dry and the tips of her fingers and toes tingled. Her legs and arms were asleep and it took a while for the rest of her body to wake up. She swung her eyes over to the familiar face of Tom.

"Wha…"

She licked her dry lips; Tom looked sharply up at her, relief clear on his face.

"No one else is around. You're in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts," Tom said gently. "Do you remember what happened?"

She gave a small shake of her head, her brow furrowed. "I… passed out..."

Tom swallowed. "You did. The Dementors… I've never seen so many of them… they were all focused on you, they swarmed to you and from the outside, no one could see you. Dumbledore… all the Professors and quite a few of the upperclassmen shot off their Patronus'. It managed to scare enough of them off that Dumbledore could cast a slow—fall on you… They still stayed with you all the way to the ground and—"

Tom stopped himself, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"And…?" Harry prompted, her voice cracking.

"They were halfway through giving you a Dementor's kiss before Wood's Patronus chased them off long enough for Dumbledore to reach you," Tom finally said.

Harry's eyes widened. Oliver hadn't perfected the Patronus while they trained with Lupin—the only ones who had were Angelina, Katie and Hermione—so it was impressive he was able to pull one off so suddenly. Her eyes widened at that… and the fact that she had nearly died.

She swallowed roughly, silence falling between them.

"Wha… What did it look… like?"

"Wrong," Tom said hollowly. "Very wrong."

She swallowed again, discomforted by the fact that Dementors had come closer to killing her than the supposed Dark Slut. "How long…?"

"Three days. They were going to send you to St. Mungo's if you hadn't awoken by tonight," Tom said softly.

"Is Cedric… are the others alright?"

Tom gave a snort before laughing a humorless laugh. "You damn Gryffindor. They're fine. You were the only one they were after."

"Good," Harry said softly.

"Idiot," Tom retorted, glancing away. "Call for Dobby. Tell him to bring you as much chocolate as he can. And warm milk."

Harry gave a slow nod, struggling to sit up and rest against the headboard of the bed. "D-Dobby?"

There was a sharp crack before Dobby stood on Harry's lap, his big eyes watering and he sniffled. "Misses Harry Potter! You're alright! Oh, Dobby was so worried!"

"Dobby? W-Would you please be a dear and bring me as much chocolate as you can… a-and warm milk?"

"Right away!" Dobby cried out, disappearing. "And Dobby will be sure to let the others know you're awake."

"What else happened while I was out of it?" Harry asked, glancing towards Tom.

"Dumbledore was furious," Tom said, giving a small shudder. "I've never seen him so livid before. Bloody hell, all of the teachers were and the majority of the students. Lupin looked ready to bite the head off the nearest Dementor and your alliances… Well, let's just say that any Dementor near the stadium after the almost—kiss, was in danger of going extinct."

Harry's brow furrowed. "Why…? I know I am there… ally, and I suppose I can… understand the annoyance of having a… potential ally die before their usefulness… runs out, but…"

"They weren't thinking of you as an ally, and they definitely weren't worried about your uselessness," Tom said, his eyes glinting with something Harry couldn't quite understand.

Harry shook her head. "I don't—"

The door to the Hospital Wing flew open and Harry barely had time to think before Hermione Granger threw herself at her, wrapping her arms tightly around Harry's neck and giving out a dry sob. Harry's eyes widened and she stiffened at the very unfamiliar contact of another human being. Then Ginny was on the bed and clinging to them, as well, crying and even Neville was sniffling and rubbing his eyes furiously. Draco and Ron stood on either side of Harry, clear relief on both their faces and at the front of her bed was her Gryffindor team. Oliver was sniffling and looked a mixture of relief and pride—Harry wasn't quite sure why. Actually, she wasn't sure why _any_ of them were so… _emotional_.

"You bloody stupid idiot!" Hermione cried out, hiccupping. "_Go on Cedric! I'll distract them. Go save yourself._ You stupid, _stupid_ idiot!"

Harry's mouth was open, but words escaped her. What was Hermione upset about?

It was then that Dumbledore, McGonagall and Lupin all pushed through the crowd to stand at Harry's bedside and Harry continued to look flabbergasted at Hermione and Ginny's… and Neville's and Luna's… and the Quidditch team's… and… just… everyone's emotions.

__I don't understand. Why is she crying? Did I upset her?__

"Yes and no," Tom answered, his face unreadable. "However, believe it or not, she's not crying because you upset her in an insulting way. She's crying because she's happy you're alive, and she's crying because she almost lost you. It's the same reason for all of them.

Harry continued to look around them with bewildered eyes. __But I… I don't… That implies she… that they lo… like me. That's not possible. Harry Potter is a good girl. Good girls don't win. Bad boys do. Bad boys get the love and recognition! Good girls don't! They don't!__

"They do," Tom said with a disdainful snort. "You were just one of the unlucky few who didn't."

"Why…" Harry whispered, her heart pounding in her chest and her desire to flee coming on strong. "Why are you…? Why are you crying? I don't…"

"You bloody idiot!" Ginny sobbed. "We're crying because we're happy, don't you understand?"

"Do you remember what happened, Harry?" Dumbledore asked gently, mistaking Harry's confusion for amnesia.

__Good girls don't… they don't get loved… they don't… they just… get broken… and broken… and broken… This doesn't make any sense. It's wrong… Right? Right?!__

Tom fell silent, knowing Harry wasn't asking him anymore.

__It's wrong. Isn't it? But why do I feel so warm?__

_It is wrong_, Moratorium thought. _It's just a trick. They must want something from you._

But it feels so warm… _I_ feel so warm inside… Surely something that feels so nice, can't be…

Harry's arms shook as she slowly raised them. She was quite certain the majority of her was in shock, but at that moment she wanted something. She needed it something fierce.

So even… even if it was a scam. Even if it was all just a trick. Even if they did just want something… for just that moment, Harry didn't care. Because at that moment, Harry had never quite felt so warm and never quite felt so loved.

Her arms wrapped around Hermione and Ginny and she closed her eyes, just taking in the moment.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

When everyone had calmed down, Dumbledore re—explained the events that had transpired and Dobby had appeared with mountains of chocolate. Pomfrey had returned from her lunch break and shoed everyone off the bed to give Harry a thorough inspection, while Dumbledore talked and Harry ate.

"Wow," Harry said dryly when Dumbledore was finished. "_Fudge_ came closer to killing me than Voldewhore."

Some of the students flinched at Voldewhore's name, and Lupin looked confused. Dumbledore just nodded his head gravely. "Yes, it would seem so."

"Ah… what about the game?"

"Technically it was cancelled, but technically we won—you caught the snitch," Oliver burst out with pride clear in his voice.

Harry blinked at that, unable to remember doing so. "Oh? Okay. Where's my broom?"

There were some exchanged looks.

"It… it wasn't much better off," Ron said slowly and even Oliver seemed pained.

"You see… when you fell off it, it got blown away," Fred said hesitantly.

"And?"

"And it hit—it hit—oh, Harry—it hit the Whomping Willow," Hermione said carefully.

Harry's eyes widened. "… Oh, God. And?"

"Well, you know the Whomping Willow," Draco added, equally as hesitant, "It—it doesn't like being hit."

"Oh my God."

"Professor Flitwick brought it back a couple days ago," Neville said carefully, pulling up a large bundled of… something in a giant cloth. He unraveled it, revealing dozens of splintered Oliver and twig onto the bed.

"_Oh my God_."

"You can always buy another one," Hermione ventured.

"I cannot!" Harry squeaked. "When you have an amazing broom like this one, you have to go through a respectful mourning period and you simply aren't allowed to buy a broom for yourself for at least six months. It's disrespectful!"

The Quidditch fanatics all nodded their heads in understanding.

"It was a good broom," Oliver sighed.

"One of the best," added George.

"Certainly the best on this team," Fred remarked.

"It will be missed," Angelina sighed.

"Yes, well, if you guys are done conversing, I'd like you to leave. Harry needs as much rest as she can," Pomfrey said shortly. "She's lucky enough she woke up today on her own, any longer and I would have sent her straight to St. Mungo's."

Harry glanced over at McGonagall and Dumbledore. "I don't suppose with the recent news of my near—death due to Dementors has pressured the Ministry into retracting the Dementors."

"Not entirely," Dumbledore sighed.

"Damn, and to think I actually wanted one."

Hermione peered at her suspiciously. "You still do, don't you?"

"Kind of," Harry confessed.

"Why does that not surprise me?" Draco questioned.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Harry laid out numerous slips of papers, face down. She then looked up at Tom.

__Pick one.__

Tom blinked. "What?"

__Pick one. I've written numerous magical creatures that I want, and the moment I can, I intend to raise one from a baby and train him or her personally. Pick one.__

Tom stared at it the slips of papers before finally choosing one. Harry flipped it over and grinned brightly. Tom stared at it another moment before shaking his head.

"Idiot," Tom sighed.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

As it neared Christmas, Moratorium decided it was high time to do a little shopping. He hadn't stepped out of Hogwarts for the entire school year, so far, and he was itching to pick up quite a few things. So in the Chambers, after he finished changing, he stepped out and cocked an eyebrow at Tom.

Tom stared at him. "… You changed genders."

"Superficially," Harry said.

Moratorium snorted at Harry's quick reply before shaking his head. "It's about time I did a little shopping. Come. I'll explain on the way."

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

"Interesting," Tom admitted as Moratorium finished explaining his empire to him. "Very thorough and clever, I applaud you on that."

__I'm surprised you didn't think of it.__

"I did," Tom said, drifting behind Moratorium as Moratorium adjusted his red scarf to cover the lower half of his face. He kept his black gloved hands in his pocket as he walked the dark streets of one of the lesser—liked alleys. "However I thought it would be too… dirty."

__It's a dirty world.__

"That doesn't mean I have to dirty myself any more than necessary," Tom sniffed.

Moratorium gave a ghost of a smile as he entered a small shop. A bald, burly man stepped out from the counter, his face entirely blank. "Wha' can I do fer yeh?"

Moratorium pulled out a small sack—roughly the size of both of his hands put together—before he placed it on the counter, spilling out the galleons. The cashier continued to give Moratorium a blank look, but a gleam took to his eyes. He gave a slimy smile.

"I'm in need of things that aren't normally sold on the streets," Moratorium purred. "I have a list. I'll give you half the payment now, and the rest when I receive the items. If I like how well you've done, I might even return here whenever I need more items."

The cashier grinned. "Understoo', ser."

Moratorium extracted a neat slip of paper and handed it to the man. The man's eyes widened and he gave a bark of a laugh. "I can do that, ser."

"Good," Moratorium said shortly before walking away from the counter and wandering the shop.

"What's that?" Tom inquired, gesturing to an old black tome.

Moratorium tilted his head before brushing his fingers along the spine. __There's an enchantment over it to hide its title.__

Moratorium held up the book to the cashier and the cashier took out his wand, waving it. The enchantment dissolved away and Moratorium's eyes narrowed with interest. __A book about Parseltongue? My, my, what a naughty thing.__

"A very old book, as well," Tom said, eyeing it with equal interest. "Look who wrote it."

__Salazar Slytherin?__

Tom's eyes took a gleam to it and he eyed the book with plain desire.

Harry tilted her head and eyed Tom, gnawing on her bottom lip. __You've been… a good ally. I'll buy this book for you and adjust the spell so you can read it at your leisure.__

Moratorium frowned_. _However, I will be reading it first to make sure there aren't any spells that could assist you out of your predicament.__

"Deal," Tom said quickly, his eyes wide. "… You're seriously giving me this book?"

__When I'm done with it_,_ Moratorium insisted. __Harry seems to want you to have this.__

"Thank you, Harry," Tom said quietly.

Harry smiled.

Moratorium inwardly rolled his eyes before approaching the cashier. __Let's get this over with. I want to check with Marwyn about the progress for the races and duels.__

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Everything was setting up nicely, the first duel scheduled some time after New Year, with the race scheduled in the summer. Moratorium was quite content with the progress—and how much money he was making, with thirty percent of all profits going into the Potter vault, and the rest into Moratorium's vault—and decided to simply reap the rewards for a while. Besides, it would take time the next plan to even be ready to start.

Harry, on the other hand, was dead-set on going to Hogsmeade. With her wand held out before her, the tip lit with a white light and Tom floating at her side—the two conversing quietly—she made her way down the secret passage. She readjusted her invisibility cloak on her shoulders, wrapping it tighter around her for warmth.

Harry exited out of the passage into Honeydukes, her eyes taking in the scene with keen delight.

"I can't believe I never knew about these passages," Tom mused as Harry hurried up the stairs to the main room of Honeydukes. Her eyes roamed the area before settling on Hermione and Ron who stood in the farthest corner.

"Ugh, no, Harry won't want one of those, they're for vampires, I expect," Hermione said as Harry snuck up behind them.

"How about these?" asked Ron, shoving a jar of Cockraoch Clusters under Hermione's nose.

"Bloody hell, no!" Harry exclaimed.

Ron nearly dropped the jar.

"Told you'd I'd make it," Harry said. "Now give me the grand tour!"

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

When the tour was over and done with, and they had bought their fair share of sweets, they left Honeydukes for the blizzard outside. Hogsmeade looked like a Christmas snow globe—a very cliché one at that—but at the same time it was endearing and Harry found herself liking it. However, it wasn't long until a very familiar man caught her attention.

Hagrid? Harry thought curiously, pulling her hand out of Hermione's and stepping towards him. McGonagall, Flitwick and… Fudge, too?

"Hmm? Harry?"

"Ah—Ah—Ron, Hermione, why don't you see if you can find the others? I will be right back."

Ron blinked in surprise. "Sure…?"

Harry then hurried off to the group of teachers, slipping into the pub and following them to a table.

"What are you doing?" Tom asked.

_Spying on Fudge. I want to know if he has any intentions of retracting the Dementors. I'm sure McGonagall will ask him about it, and I want to hear firsthand._

Harry slid to stand next to them as they crowded into a large table in the back room, where no one could disturb them.

"So, what brings you to this neck of the Olivers, Minister?" Flitwick asked, smiling.

"What else, but Sirius Black? Especially after what happened at the school on Halloween," Fudge exclaimed. "I'm certain Black is still in the area."

"Is that why you insist on keeping the Dementors at school, despite them nearly killing one of my students?" McGonagall asked coldly, her eyes narrowed.

"McGonagall, m'dear, I don't like them any more than you do," Fudge said uncomfortably. "Necessary precaution… unfortunate, yes, but necessary. Besides, Harriet is quite alright now, isn't she?"

"'Course she is!" Hagrid exclaimed. "Harry's as tough as they can be!"

"Oh, hello Madam Rosmerta," Fudge greeted the waitress as she handed everyone drinks. She smiled warmly at them.

"Hello, Minister. Still here about Black?"

"Of course, of course!"

"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," said Madam Rosmerta thoughtfully. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought… I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead."

"You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," said Fudge gruffly. "The worst he did isn't widely known."

"The worst?" Rsomerta echoed. "Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?"

"I certainly do," said Fudge.

"I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?"

"You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta," murmured Professor McGonagall. "Don't you remember who his best friend was?"

"Naturally," Rosmerta laughed. "Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here—ooh they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter."

Harry froze, her eyes widening.

__My father… and the serial killer?__

"Precisely," McGonagall said. "Black and Potter, ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course—exceptionally bright, in fact—but I don't think we've ever had such a pair of troublemakers—"

"I dunno," chuckled Hagrid. "Fred and George Weasley could give 'em a run for their money."

"You would have thought Black and Potter were brothers. Inseparable, the two!" chimed Flitwick.

__...What? _What_?!__

"Of course they were," said Fudge. "Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lilly, then they named him godfather to Harriet. Harriet has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment her."

"Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?" whispered Rosmerta.

"Worse even than that, m'dear…" Fudge dropped his voice and Harry had to lean in to hear. "Not many people are aware that the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was a Fidelius Charm."

"A what?" Rosmerta asked.

"An immensely complex spell," Flitwick squeaked, "involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and henceforth impossible to find—unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. As long as the Secret-Keeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where Lily and James were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nosed pressed against their sitting-room window!"

Goosebumps rose up and down Harry's arms as she had an inkling where this was going.

"So Black was the Potters' Secret-Keeper?"

"Naturally. James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would rather die than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself… and yet Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to the Secret-Keeper himself."

"He was suspicious of Black?" Rosmerta asked, her eyes wide.

"He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been informing You-Know-Who of their movements," McGonagall answered.

"Filthy, stinkin' turncoat," growled Hagrid. "I met him! I musta bin the last ter see him before he killed all them people! It was me that rescued Harry from Lily an' James's house after they was killed! Jus' got her outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash across her forehead, an' her parents dead… an' Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin' motorbike he used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what he was doin' there. I didn' know he'd bin Lily and James's Secret-Keeper. Thought he'd jus' heard the news o' You-Know-Who's attack an' come ter see what he could do. White an' shakin', he was. An' yeh know what I did? _I comforted the murderin' traito_r!"

"Hagrid, please. Keep your voice down," McGonagall reprimanded.

"How was I ter know he wasn' upset abou' Lily an' James? It was You-Know-Who he cared abou'! An' then he says, 'Give Harry ter me, Hagrid. I'm her godfather, I'll look after her—' Ha! But I'd had me orders from Dumbledore, an' I told Black no, Dumbledore said Harry was ter go ter her aunt an' uncle's. Black argued, but in the end he gave in. Told me ter take his motorbike ter get Harry there…"

Harry had had damn near enough. She took a deep breath and blocked out the rest of the conversation.

__You mean to tell me, that if it wasn't for Black… if it wasn't for him… I wouldn't have been sent to that hell-hole?__

Tom gave a humorless smile. "It would seem that way."

Harry stayed, listening about Peter Pettigrew and giving a small nod of approval at his sacrifice before finally leaving and walking away, anger churning in her stomach.

"He betrayed them," Harry muttered out loud. "Low-life scum!"

She ignored her alliances and went straight back to Hogwarts.

___This_ is why you need to keep them at a distance. It's _that_ kind of blind trust that gets you killed.__

Tom did not say anything, choosing to remain silent as Harry seethed. She marched straight into the Chambers, going to the training room, discarding her cloak and punching the dummy as hard as she could. She let loose a short string of curses before she began relentlessly pounding on the object.

She did not leave the Chambers for the rest of the day and night.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

She was still seething and sore when she emerged the next morning. She didn't have classes until noon, and she wasn't in the mood for company. She especially wasn't in the mood for her alliances. The only class she had that day was DADA and she was hoping Lupin would allow her to play sick and she could catch up later in a private session. With that in mind, she snuck through the hallways before stopping short of his room and knocking quietly on the door.

"Ah, yes, do come in."

Harry opened the door, sliding into the room, before closing the door behind her.

Lupin looked up at her. "Hello Harry, what can I—you look terrible."

Harry sneered, feeling more self-conscious about her appearance than she did a minute ago.

"What's wrong?" Lupin asked, sincere concern in his eyes.

Again, Harry felt conflicted. She quite liked Lupin—he was her favorite teacher ever—but he was still… he was still an adult and she had already learned firsthand (again) how dangerous misplaced trust can be. For a long while, Harry debated on how to reply.

"I was just reminded how stupid and pointless friendships really are," Harry finally said flatly, she shifted her stance, rolling her weight to the balls on her feet, ready for flight. "Look, it doesn't matter. Do you suppose I could miss this lesson with the class for today and make it up later, please?"

Lupin eyed her carefully. "Only if you tell me what's really bothering you."

Harry gave him a glare. "It's none of your concern."

"It is because I care," Lupin corrected her.

Harry flushed.

"Please, Harry, have a little faith."

Harry stared at Lupin for a long while, before her eyes lowered in defeat. "Sirius Black was my father's best friend and because of him, they're dead. Because of a stupid friendship, I lost the chance on a-a h-happy childhood."

Lupin's eyes widened and he stared at Harry. "How did you…"

"Does it matter?" Harry asked coldly.

Lupin gaped another moment before clearing his throat and shaking his head. "I suppose in the end, it doesn't."

Lupin hesitated before gesturing Harry to take a seat in front of him. Harry slowly sat down.

"That's the price of friendship, I suppose," Lupin said softly. "There's always a chance when you love someone, when you care about them, that they'll hurt you. In some cases, worse. However, everything is a bit of a double-edged sword."

Harry and Moratorium scoffed in annoyance.

"But with friendship comes other things," Lupin continued. "Things worth the risk. Loyalty. Companionship. Love. Comfort. Everyone needs a friend, Harry. I don't know what's made you so cynical and so reluctant, but I can tell you now: you'll regret it if you don't let anyone close. Think back to when you first woke up in the Hospital Wing. Remember how everyone came to you? Remember how Hermione and Ginny held you? Don't you want that?"

Harry looked away, her hands curling into fists.

"But you can only have it if you take the risk. What they accuse Sirius of is a grave thing, and what happened to your parents was no common occurrence. Harry, you should give yourself this. For once… just trust in them, in your friends."

Harry did not reply.

"You trusted me with this," Lupin said quietly.

Harry shrugged, glancing away. "… You're nice."

"And they are, too."

She swallowed roughly. "I know."

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Harry found her alli—frie—allia—frien—alliances some time later that day. She gathered them around and she told them what she had discovered and that she just needed time to herself to calm down. Hermione, Ginny and Luna hugged her and all of them forgave her.

She felt very warm.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

"Where is everyone?" Harry asked incredulously, looking around the rather empty field with a wide yawn.

Oliver pursed his lips, frowning. "Slacking."

"Well… to be fair… the sun isn't even up…"

"Yet you're here."

Harry shrugged, not quite sure why she wanted to come to practice in the first place. She couldn't quite place her finger on it, but she very much enjoyed practice. It wasn't so much as the practice itself—or even the sport, or the flying—there was just something else about practicing that Harry very much liked.

Oliver let out an annoyed cry before he starting muttering crossly to himself about the rest of the team's lack of spirit all the while pacing back and forth. Harry leaned on the school's broom, yawning again and rubbing her eyes, smirking in amusement.

"So…" Harry drawled when Oliver finished ranting. "… What's your Patronus?"

Completely caught off guard by the question, Oliver blinked in surprise. "… What?"

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Oh… a badger," Oliver muttered. "Maybe I should run up and wake everyone up…? I bet some cold water would wake them…"

Harry's eyebrows rose. "Really? That would have been cool to see… speaking of Dementors… I wanted to… thank you. You know, for… saving my life. Thanks."

Oliver flushed. "Don't think any of it, Harry. I just reacted. Now how about we head back up to the dorms and drag our teams out to the field?"

"Sounds like a plan."

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Come Christmas Eve, after showering Basileus with love and attention and giving him quite a feast to eat on his own time, and giving Dobby the week off, and showering Buckbeak with love and attention (he seemed to sense the was being adored and as such, he quite loved it. The egotist), Harry finally sat in the Gryffindor dormitory front room, curled up on the couch and attempting not to doze off Hermione was curled up next to her, flipping through a textbook. Fred, George, and Lee Jordan were playing some sort of game with Ron, Neville, Colin and Ginny that Harry didn't really understand.

Harry gave another wide yawn just as Ron let out a sigh and glanced over at her, looking up from the board game.

"Hey, Harry?"

"Mn?"

"How come you always open presents before us?" Ron asked curiously.

Harry gave him a tired look. "I don't."

Neville looked up, frowning. "But we've never seen you open a present before. Do you open them alone?"

Harry opened her mouth to retort; _No. I just do not receive Christmas presents_, but stopped herself. She fell silent, looking away. "… Yeah. That's what I do."

"How come?" Colin asked.

"… Habit. My, uh, cousin prefers to open his gifts in a very loud manner that… annoys me, so I, uh, sneak off…"

"Well, no promises about us not being loud," Fred chuckled.

"Or annoying you," George added.

"But that doesn't mean you should hide from us," they chorused. "We promise to behave… at least until the presents have all been opened."

Harry gave a thin smile. "We'll see."

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Harry gave a slow nod to the only other person who woke up as early as she did—Neville. Neville glanced up at her, smiling. "Good morning, Harry."

"Good morning, Neville. Ah, do you know when the next club meeting is? I forgot," Harry asked, pouring herself a cup of tea from the public teapot.

"Not sure, we actually didn't set up a date. We stayed too late, remember?" Neville said.

"That's right. Hagrid was beside himself with worry we'd get in trouble for returning so late, thankfully we weren't caught," Harry said thoughtfully.

Neville smiled and nodded his head. Harry cocked her head as she took a seat next to Neville. "What are you reading?"

"A botanist book," Neville answered, holding it out for Harry. "See, after learning so much about creatures with the club, I realized I wasn't quite so afraid of them. Don't get me wrong, if I see so much as a hint of a Hell-Hound or Basilisk coming towards me, I'm running, but I'm not so nervous about them. I thought I'd have the same luck with other things, you know?"

"You're scared of plants?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Not really, but I'm scared of potions with Professor Snape," Neville muttered. "I figured… I figured if I knew some of the ingredients real good, then I wouldn't get to flustered working with them and in consequence I wouldn't be so flustered with Snape…"

Harry award Neville with an appraising look. "That's a very thoughtful way of dealing with your phobia. Kudos for you, Neville."

"Aw, thanks, Harry… Are you going to open your present?"

Harry blinked in surprise. "I beg your pardon?"

Neville gestured. "You got a present. I'm curious to what it is. Do you mind…?"

Harry blinked again, still surprised.

"He's right. It's addressed to you," Tom observed.

Harry waved her hand towards it, using a silent _Accio_.

"That reminds me… Draco wants to know when we can start the lessons with you," Neville said.

"When we can find a place to train without interruption," Harry murmured, unwrapping the gift. "I already told him that. I don't want the professors coming in and interrupting us, and I don't want any more students joining us than necessary. If we use a public place, more than likely they'll notice and bug us."

A Firebolt rested in Harry's lap and her eyes widened in disbelief.

"I don't believe it," Neville breathed.

"You and me both," Harry replied, looking for some form of card and finding nothing.

Could it have been by the same person who sent me the cloak? No, no… Dumbledore wouldn't have spent so much money on me. If not him, though… who…?

"Who sent it?"

"It was… anonymous," Harry replied, her fingers brushing along the broom.

Crookshanks gave a soft meow and Harry stooped down to pick him up, with one hand she sent the broom against the wall nearest to her and adjusted Crookshanks so he laid in her lap. Idly, she began to pet him.

"If Ron sees you with that cat, he'll think you're fraternizing with the enemy," Neville said, chuckling.

"Yes, well, I'm actually taking Crookshanks' side in this. That rat creeps me out," Harry said shortly. "It's not natural for a rat to watch someone change, unblinkingly. It's just not."

Neville only chuckled in response.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Harry made sure to write to Oliver, informing him of the new Firebolt—as she knew full well he would want to know, seeing how he had given a very hysteric speech to her the other day at how she could still kick arse on a broom that wasn't anywhere near as good as her previous one… She knew he was lying and he knew he was failing stupendously at trying to motivate her again—before heading off to the Chambers. She had every intention of spending her Christmas breakfast with her beloved Basileus.

After breakfast, she went down to Hagrid's hut, bringing along more meat to give to Buckbeak. After showering him in affection and love—and actually eating her lunch with him—she finally headed off to the Quidditch field to practice on her new Firebolt.

And that was how Harry Potter spent her Christmas day.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

"_You flew the broom_?!" Hermione shrieked that night as Harry got into bed.

"Of course I did," Harry retorted.

"What if it had been sent by Sirius Black? Oh! I wish you'd told me sooner, I would have asked Professor McGonagall…"

"It's perfectly fine, Basileus checked it out for me," Harry assured Hermione, giving a yawn. "For how long he's been around, he's gotten to be quite a sensor when it comes to jinxes, hexes, enchantment and curses."

Hermione still pursed her lips, but relented in her lecture.

"Good night, Hermione."

"… Good night, Harry."

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

The Gryffindor Quidditch team walked onto the field to tumultuous applause. The Ravenclaw team, decked out in blue, were already standing in the middle of the field. Their Seeker, Cho Chang, was the only girl on their team and she smiled at Harry. Harry returned the smile with a polite one of her own.

"Wood, Davies, shake hands," Hooch said briskly, and the two Captains shook hands.

"Mount your brooms… on my whistle… three—two—one—"

Harry soared up higher and faster than anyone else on her team and she circled around the stadium, her eyes squinting in her goggles as she tried to find the snitch. Tom drifted to float beside her, appearing to actually be leaning against her broom.

"They're off! Would you look at how fast Harry flew up, looking mighty fine on that even finer Firebolt. According to Which Broomstick, the Firebolt's going to the broom of choice for the national teams at this year's World Championship—"

"Jordan, would mind actually talking about the match?" McGonagall interrupted, sighing.

"Right, you are, Professor—just giving a bit of much desired information to all the Quidditch Fanatics. Here we have Katie Bell of Gryffindor heading for the goal, and oh so close, but the ball's been stolen—oh and it looks like…"

Harry dove towards the opposite field, her eyes still roaming.

"Chang is following you, odds are she thinks you'll find the Snitch before her," Tom pointed out. Harry glanced back, her lips twitching.

"Does she now?" Harry asked, amused. "She's a good flier and all… but nowhere near as good as me."

With that said, Harry dove towards the ground in a sharp motion, giving the impression she had found the Snitch. Chang dove right behind her, making a sharp turn. Harry slowed her speed down, enough so Chang could catch up, and just as Chang's nose was tied with the tip of Harry's broom, the ground was a few meters away.

Using the precise skill only a Firebolt could possess—a broom Chang obviously didn't have—Harry made a sharp one—eighty turn, and avoided the ground before soaring right past Chang. Chang veered, attempting to avoid the ground—now that it became clear it was only a ruse—but due to her lesser agile broom, she was forced to crash into the ground.

Harry peered down at Chang, still rising up in the air and making sure she was well enough to continue playing. Chang spat dirt out of her mouth and shook her head, but she stood back up and got back on her broom. Harry gave her a smile and called out, "Trust your own eyes, Cho Chang, definitely not your enemies!"

Chang flushed and Harry giggled as she flew off to Gryffindor's side, drifting by Oliver.

"Nice," Oliver complimented, pleased Harry had thrown off the other team's Seeker.

Harry flushed at the compliment before continuing her circle around the field, her eyes still scanning for the Snitch.

"And it seems like Harry's certainly showed Cho how it's done! I would expect nothing less from the beautiful—and single, boys—Gryffindor's star Seeker!"

"Can you at least try to be objective?" McGonagall asked.

"Nope!" Lee Jordan laughed.

Harry's eyes roamed the stadium before they settled on—

_Doggy? Again?_

__Tom? To my right, upper corner in the shadows… do you see a black dog, or am I hallucinating?__

Tom's eyes followed her directions. "I see it. whose dog is that?"

__... I… I don't know. I think I know that dog. I think it's the very same dog I met back in the Muggle world… what's it doing here?__

"Watching you play," Tom suggested.

__Very funny.__

"Snitch, nine—o'clock."

Harry shot off after in the direction Tom had said, and sure enough her eyes latched onto the Snitch. She sped after it, using every bit of the Firebolt's speed to catch up to it. Her hand outstretched and her fingers barely grazed it—

"And Harry's caught the Snitch!" Lee Jordan exclaimed just as the whistle blew.

Harry drifted to the ground, and the moment her feet touched the ground she was whisked away into the arms of her teammates. Alicia, Angelina and Katie all kissed Harry's cheek and the twins ruffled her hair while Oliver picked her up, swinging her around… again…

_Is he going to do this every time I get us a wi_n? Harry thought, her eyes drifting back up to where the dog was… and not finding him there.

_Hummm_…

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHHHH! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Harry bolted up from her bed at the familiar scream and, not thinking, grabbed her wand under her pillow and sprinted out of the room. The very first thing she saw moving, she immediately shot a Stupefy at—it was another student, _whoopsie_—before hurtling herself up the stairs to the boy's room and blasting the door open, her wand raised and poised to shoot the nearest thing.

She was greeted to the sight of a frantic Ron who was hyperventilating while Neville, Dean and Seamus tried to calm him down.

"Black! Sirius Black! With a knife!"

"What?"

"Here! Just now! Slashed the curtains! Woke me up!"

"You sure you weren't dreaming, Ron?" asked Dean.

"Look at the curtains! I tell you, he was here!"

Harry rubbed her eyes, relaxing as she was certain there was no more danger. She gave an annoyed glare as she looked at the curtains… which were indeed slashed.

"Come on, Ron… let's get some hot chocolate in you to calm you down," Harry said, both tired and annoyed as she placed an arm around her ally—friend—ally—friend and guided him down into the common room. The other boys followed. The common room was mostly deserted—with the exception of a student, unconscious—a first year if Harry remembered correctly, _Now that's a silly place to sleep_—but others were slowly walking in.

"What's all the noise?"

"Did someone scream?"

"I thought McGonagall told us that the party was over?"

"Everyone back upstairs!" Percy exclaimed, hurrying into the common room and pinning his Head Boy badge to his pajamas as he spoke.

"Perce—Sirius Black!" Ron exclaimed faintly, looking very pale. "In our dormitory! With a knife! Me! Curtains!"

The common room went very still.

"Nonsense!" dismissed Percy, though he still looked slightly unnerved. "You had too much to eat, Ron—a nightmare—"

"No, it wasn't—"

"Now, really, enough's enough!"

Professor McGonagall was back. She slammed the portrait behind her as she entered the common room and glared furiously around.

"I am delighted that Gryffindor won the match, but this is getting ridiculous! Percy, I expected better of you!"

"I certainly didn't authorize this, Professor! I was just telling them to get back to bed. My brother, Ron, had a nightmare—"

"It wasn't a nightmare!" Ron roared. "Professor, I woke up, and Sirius Black was standing over me, holding a knife!"

Everyone stared at Ron.

"Don't be ridiculous, Weasley, how could he possibly have gotten through the portrait hole?"

"Ask him!" Ron exclaimed, gesturing madly to Sir Cadogan's portrait. "Ask him if he saw—"

Glaring suspiciously and grumpily at Ron, Professor McGonagall pushed the portrait back open and went outside. The whole common room listened carefully.

"Sir Cadogan, did you just let a man enter Gryffindor Tower?"

"Certainly, good lady!" cried Sir Cadogan.

There was stunned silence, both inside and out of the tower.

"You—you _did_? But—but the password!"

"He had 'em!" Sir Cadogan exclaimed. "Had the whole week's, my lady! Read 'em off a little piece of paper."

McGonagall pulled herself back through the portrait, white as chalk.

"Which person," she inquired, her voice shaking, "_which abysmally foolish person_, wrote down this week's passwords and left them _laying around_?"

There was utter silence, broken by the smallest of squeaks as Neville slowly raised his hand.

Harry grinned approvingly at him. "Nice."

She high fived his raise hand.

The students stared at her.

McGonagall placed her face in her hands. "_Oh my God_."

"What?"

Hermione placed both her hands on Harry's shoulders and looked her in the eye. "There is something _wrong_ with you."

Harry gave a sheepish smile.

Her smile slipped as something occurred to her.

"Wait… he went in the boy's dormitory?" Harry asked, glancing over at Ron, a look of outrage on her face. "_Oh my God_! I know I don't have much boobs yet, but seriously?! _Seriously_?!"

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Much to Harry's disappointment, security had doubled. Throughout the following day, everywhere they went they saw the signs of tighter security; Professor Flitwick could be seen teaching the front doors to recognize a large picture of Sirius Black; Filch was suddenly bustling up and down the corridors, boarding up everything; Sir Cadogan had been fired and the Fat Lady was back—if still very nervous and only returning on the condition of more security around her—surly security trolls had been hired to guard her, as well.

Harry showed her disappointment by moping about—bemoaning how the school year just got significantly more boring—while her friends, starting to get used to their risk-loving, adrenaline-addicted, danger-seeking friend, just gave her chocolate and patted her on the head in hopes of comforting her. Neville was ashamed of his actions and McGonagall was furious with him—enough that she had banned him from Hogsmeade's visits for the rest of the year, and given explicit orders not for anyone to tell him the passwords, so he had to wait outside to be let in (although Harry gave them to him anyway, in hopes of a repeat) and worst of all, his Grandmother sent him a Howler.

Harry, again much to her disappointment and horror, was forbidden from going anywhere without at least two people with her. Which meant her visits to her darling Basileus were against the rules and she had to go the extra mile just to sneak out to see him. It was very annoying.

On the next Hogsmeade visit, only she and Neville were left alone in their year. She patiently waited for her friends to have reached Hogsmeade before grinning at Neville and wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh, no, what is it?" Neville groaned.

"I'm sneaking off to Hogsmeade, and I know you so want to join me," Harry said, still wiggling her eyebrows.

"No! That's—that's against the rules! What if we get caught?"

Harry snorted and gave Neville a very unimpressed look. "Do you honestly think I would get caught? I've been doing this all year."

Neville had the grace to look sheepish. "Well… no… but it's still against the rules. What about Black?"

"What about him?"

Neville backtracked his reasoning. "Okay, while _you_ are addicted to danger, _I_ am not and I actually care about your well-being and I don't want to getting hurt, and I don't think anyone else does, either."

Harry pulled out her wand, staring blankly at Neville. "Are you going to try and stop me?"

"Well… no."

"So then wouldn't it be better if you joined me? To… 'keep an eye on me.'"

"Fat good just an eye would do with you," Neville muttered. "… I don't like it, but… Okay…"

Harry beamed. "Good boy!"

"Not really…"

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Harry finally took off her Invisibility Cloak at the outskirts of the Shrieking Shack. Neville shivered in his coat, his hands buried into his pockets. Harry, however, gave a pleased sigh. Pleased that she was no longer in Hogwarts. Pleased she had disobeyed some sort of rules for the day. Pleased she had not been caught. Pleased that she would soon be sipping hot chocolate and eating her favorite Lava—Chava Cookies.

There was a bark.

She whirled around and she gave a delighted squeal. "Doggy!"

Neville gave her a blank look as she sprinted over to the shaggy black dog, dropping to her knees and hugging him tightly. The dog seemed very happy to see her, but he didn't seem overly happy to see Neville.

"Oh, you're such a smart doggy," Harry cooed, kissing his cheek. "I can't believe it really is you. You followed me all the way from Privet Drive?"

The dog seemed pleased with her attention, and if Harry didn't know any better, the way he nodded his head seemed to be answering her question. Harry took off her Gryffindor scarf, wrapping it around the dog.

"Oh, God, that thing's filthy," Tom sniffed, eyeing it with distaste. "It suits for him to wear a Gryffindor scarf…"

__Go to hell.__ Harry retorted, but with no real malice.

"Do you know if there's a dog equivalent to a Kneazle? I swear this dog understands me," Harry inquired, both to Neville and Tom while she started picking out burrs and twigs and other things from the dog's mangled coat.

"Uh…" Neville trailed off.

"Yes," Tom answered.

"Okay. Thank you," Harry murmured. "I'm guessing he's one of them, then. Dobby?"

Dobby appeared, smiling. "Yesses?"

"Would you please bring me a nicely cooked steak for our very smart doggy? Make that two. Oh, and some water, if you would please… Oh, and actually a brush wouldn't hurt, either."

The dog barked and gave a soft whine, eyeing Neville.

"Oh, don't mind him. The rest of my friends will be here very soon, so you'll get to meet them, as well," Harry told him, frowning slightly when she found a tick. "Hmm… I'll have to check with Hermione if she knows any tick—removing spells."

Speaking of the devil…

"Harry! Oh, I can't believe you actually came," Hermione said shrilly, hurrying over to her friend and glowering.

"Of course I did, dear. Did you honestly think I wouldn't?"

Draco snorted, moving to Harry's side and handing her some beloved hot chocolate and Lava—Chava cookies. Harry gave a loving sigh and gave one of the cookies to the dog—who ate it all too happily before sipping on her drink.

"What's with the dog?" Ron asked curiously, staring at Harry's scarf around him.

"You won't believe it," Harry exclaimed. "This dog has followed me all the way from Privet Drive. I think he's imprinted on me—he was very ragged when I found him and I gave him food and a bath. He must be a—"

"They would be called Grimvels," Tom supplied.

"—Grimvel,"Harry finished.

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Ooooh? Really? They're so rare! I heard you can't breed them in captivity and when they find an owner to imprint on, they'll stay with them even after their owner dies!"

Even Draco was staring at the dog appreciatively. "Most Grimvels actually die of starvation by refusing to leave their owners' side after their owners have already been buried."

Harry wrapped her arms around the dog, kissing his cheek. "Aren't I lucky to have found one, then?"

"I would if Dumbledore would let you bring him into Hogwarts," Neville pondered.

"Probably. She is the Girl-Who-Lived and having a Grimvel for a familiar would be very… difficult to deny them together," Draco mused.

Dobby reappeared, placing the food and water bowl before the dog—Grimvel. Harry patted Dobby on top of his head affectionately. "Thank you, dear."

Dobby handed Harry the brush before disappearing with a snap of his fingers.

"I can't take him back to Hogwarts with me so soon, though," Harry sighed, as she began to brush the Grimvel's fur—while he very happily ate the steak—and finish picking out the twigs and whatnot. "It would beg the question to how I ran into him and I don't think I could lie to Dumbledore, and I would rather not be caught quite so soon. Taking him to the Chambers is out of the question—Basileus would either accidently kill him or eat him if he gets annoyed enough. Far too risky…"

"Well, he's been on his own for a while, perhaps he'd be willing to stay here a while longer—at least until you can come up with something? You could have Dobby bring him food and water to this exact spot, so he doesn't starve," Hermione suggested helpfully.

Harry and her friends shared collective nods. "I think that would work. Now to just think of a name…"

The Grimvel, finished with eating, sat on his haunches and licked his chops. He tilted his head, as if raising an eyebrow and gave her an expression that was best described as a smirk.

"Black," Neville suggested.

"… Don't talk," Draco said.

"… Grim?" Ron threw out.

"Napoleon," Hermione said brightly.

Both the Grimvel and Harry exchanged glances, both seeming to agree on a big fat no.

"Well… how about in honor of my favorite Map—Makers—who I wouldn't be here and thus be able to name him the first place if it weren't for them—I name him after one of them?" Harry asked rhetorically. She then looked him in the eye. "Nod to the name you want."

"Prongs." Nothing.

"Wormtail." A growl.

"Moony." Nothing.

"Padfoot." A nod.

"Alright. Padfoot it is," Harry declared, frowning when she found a particularly nasty knot. Padfoot gave a yelp when she yanked and whined pitifully.

"Sorry," Harry automatically apologized. Padfoot nudged her hand with his snout nuzzled affectionately and she smiled, kissing the top of his head.

"Well, now that we're all here… what do we want to do?" Ron asked.

"Snowball fight," Neville immediately said.

"Hermione and I will be kicking all of your arses, you do know that?" Harry asked, smirking.

Draco sneered. "I'd love to see you try."

"H-Harry? Harry Potter?"

All eyes whirled around to find Lavender Brown giving Harry a shocked expression. "What are you doing here? I-I have to get Professor McGonagall, it's too danger—"

Without thinking, Harry shot out a Stupefy and the girl fell over, unconscious.

"_Harry_!" Hermione shrieked. "You can't just go around, knocking students unconscious.

"I regret nothing," Harry told her, standing up and grabbing Neville's hand. "Alright. We better head back before she wakes up. Padfoot, stay here. Dobby will bring you dinner at sunset, I promise. Be a good boy and I'll try and sneak out and see you next Hogsmeade, alright? Let's roll, my accomplice!"

"A-Accomplice?!" Neville squeaked. "B—But I didn't knock her unconscious! Oh, no, if Grandmother finds out that I was an accomplice to attacking another student—another _Gryffindor_—a-a _girl_ Gryffindor—"

Nonplussed or bothered, Harry covered her and Neville under the cloak and the two snuck back to Hogwarts, undetected.

When Lavender came to, it was Ron who told her that he and Draco had been having a wild magic fight and one of the spells backfired and hit her—she dismissed seeing Harry and Neville as a hallucination when Hermione didn't dispute Ron and Draco's claims. And so, Neville and Harry had yet to be caught.

Although Hermione's lecturing that night was worse than receiving a Howler, in Harry's completely objective opinion.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

"Remember, Harry," Oliver was saying to her a couple weeks later after practice. He had both of his hands placed firmly on her shoulders and was looking her straight in the eye. "You can only catch the Snitch if we're twenty five points or more up. Okay? Twenty five. No less than twenty five. Otherwise we win the match, but lose the Cup. Got it? T—W—E—N—"

Harry slapped Oliver across the face. Not hard, but just enough for the sound to echo in the Quidditch Storage room. The rest of the team glanced up from polishing their brooms at the sound. Oliver stared, dumbfounded at her.

"Better? Got ahold of yourself now, right? Remember all the times I've won us the Cup? Yes? Good. Now shut the bloody hell up, dear."

Oliver nodded his head, still appearing dumbfounded. The twins exchanged glances, grinning slyly.

"That's our—"

"—Harrykins, always so—"

"—blunt with her opinion."

"Poor Oliver, so hyped up for the Cup—"

"—but too hyped up for Harrykins' taste!"

Harry merely raised an eyebrow at the two snickering twins.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

The day of the final match, Harry was being dragged to the field by a frantic Oliver, who refused to release her hand simply because she made a joke about just skipping the entire match and going off to play with her pets. Oliver had made a very odd (funny) noise before grabbing her hand and proceeding to drag her to the field. Harry was too busy snickering about his reaction to care, and the way the twins were snickering right behind her, she could they were amused to. The girls merely rolled their eyes, but they were smiling, as well.

When they reached the field, Oliver paced up and down it—still refusing to release Harry's hand, as he was too distracted. "Okay—no wind to speak of—sun's a bit bright, that could impair your vision, watch out for it—ground's fairly hard, good, that'll give us a fast kick off—"

"Oliver, you can release my hand now," Harry said patiently.

"Twins, don't let her out of your sight," Oliver replied absently, still pacing as he released his hand. Then Fred and George both wrapped their arms around Harry's shoulders, grinning widely.

"Okay—locker rooms—girls, if you would please make sure Harry doesn't run off—"

Harry rolled her eyes in exasperation, but allowed to be herded to the locker rooms. When everyone was dressed and ready, the Gryffindor team walked out onto the field to a tidal wave of noise. Three quarters of the crowd were wearing scarlet rosettes, waving scarlet flags with the Gryffindor emblem on them, or branding banners with cheerful slogans. The one quarter that was not cheering for Gryffindor, was Slytherin, of course—decked out in green and silver.

"And here are the Gryffindors!" yelled Lee Jordan, who was acting as commentator per usual. "Potter, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best team Hogwarts has seen in a good few years—"

Lee's comments were drowned by a tide of boos from the Slytherin end.

"—with some of the most attractive girls on the team—Hullo, Katie! Angelina! Alicia! Harry!—"

More more boos erupted from the stadiums—only not just from Slytherin's side.

"And here comes the Slytherin team, lead by Captain Flint. He's made some changes in the lineup and seems to be going for size rather than skill—"

The rest of his words were drowned out by boos on the Slytherin's side.

Harry, however, thought that he was right on cue. Harry's lips twitched in amusement.

__I wonder how many I can knock off their brooms?__

"Such a vicious thought, and if it were any other House, but my own, I would be delighted to encourage it," Tom said dryly.

As Flint and Wood approached each other and grasped each other's hands very tightly (it looked like they were trying to break the other's fingers), Madam Hooch declared, "Mount your brooms! Three… two… one…"

Harry kicked off into the air, adjusting her goggles with a silent charm to better shade them from the sun. Her eyes roamed the stadium and there—in her scarf—was Padfoot, sitting perfectly content in the shadows, his tail wagging. Harry gave a grin.

"And it's Gryffindor in possession, Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for Slytherin goalposts, looking good, Alicia! Argh, no—Quaffle interacted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing up the field—wham!—nice Bludger work there by George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it's caught by—Johnson, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Angelina—nice swerve around Montague—duck Angelina, that's a Bludger!—And she scores! Ten—zero to Gryffindor!"

Angelina punched the air as she soared around the end of the field; the sea of scarlet below was screaming its delight—

"Ouch!"

Angelina was nearly thrown from her broom as Marcus Flint went smashing into her.

"Sorry!" said Flint as the crowd below booed. "Sorry, didn't see her—"

Flint was interrupted from his apology as Harry rammed into him and did knock him off his broom into the cheering—and laughing—crowd.

"Sorry!" Harry called out, giggling. "Sorry! Didn't see him…"

The crowd roared their approval and Angelina high—fived Harry while Madam Hooch. "Penalty shot to Gryffindor for deliberate damage to their Chaser! Penalty shot to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Chaser!"

Harry rolled her eyes, but drifted below into the crowd, guiding Flint's broom back to him. He sneered at her when she handed it back to him, smiling sweetly.

"Better watch where you're going, Flint," She called out as she flew back up into the air, ignoring his rather rude retort.

"Come on, Alicia!" yelled Lee. "Yes! She's beaten the Keeper! Twenty—Zero to Gryffindor!"

The crowd roared in approval once more and Harry laughed, feeling the absolute glee and cheerfulness radiating from the crowd. It was hard not to feel excited in such energized air.

"Gryffindor in possession, no Slytherin in possession—no!—Gryffindor back in possession, and it's Katie Bell, Katie Bell for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she's streaking up the field—that was deliberate!"

Montague, a Slytherin Chaser, had swerved in front of Katie, and instead of seizing the Quaffle, had grabbed her head. Katie cartwheeled into the air, managing to stay on her broom, but dropped the Quaffle. Madam Hooch's whistle rang out again as she soared over Montague and began shouting at him. A minute later, Katie had put another penalty past the Slytherin Keeper.

"Thirty—Zero! Take that you dirty, cheating—"

"Jordan, if you can't commentate in an unbiased way—"

"I'm telling it like it is, Professor!"

Harry's eyes lit up when she found the Snitch and she sped off towards it—it was on Slytherin's end. As she flew towards it, one of the Bludgers came streaking past Harry's right ear—and another one—and another one—each one barely grazing her and leaving her more and more irritated as Slytherin's Beaters closed in.

She turned her Firebolt upwards sharply at the last second, just for the two to collide with a sickening crunch.

"Ha! Too bad boys, you should know better than to mess with the devilishly gorgeous Harry Potter! And it's Gryffindor in possession again, as Johnson takes the Quaffle—"

Harry lost focus of the commentary, her eyes locked onto the Snitch. However, she lost focus of it the moment she heard Lee swear out a very naughty word—a word that actually made Harry blush deeply in embarrassment and the crowd erupt into laughing giggles as McGonagall tried to wrestle the magical megaphone away from him.

"Sorry, Professor, sorry! Won't happen again. So, Gryffindor in the lead, thirty to ten now… Gyrffindor in possession…"

Harry's eyes roamed the field as she watched the last game turn into the dirtiest game Harry had ever played in. Enraged that Gryffindor was in the lead, the Slytherins were rapidly resorting to any means to take the Quaffle. Bole hit Alicia with his club and tried to say he actually thought she was a Bludger. George elbowed Bole in the face in retaliation. Hooch awarded both teams with penalties and Wood pulled off another spectacular save—as if he would do anything less—making the score forty—to ten. Katie scored. Fifty—ten. Fred and George were swooping around her, clubs raised, in case any of the Slytherins were thinking of revenge. Bole and Derrik took advantage of their absence to aim both Bludgers at Wood—and they caught him in the stomach, one after the other, and he rolled over in the air, clutching his broom—

"Bloody hell, no!" Harry shrieked, speeding off to Oliver and grabbing hold of him, before he lost his balance. Oliver gave an airy cough while Madam Hooch was shrieking at the Beaters. Harry patted his back, and stayed while he regained his balance.

"Good?" Harry asked.

"Good," Oliver coughed. "Snitch?"

"Lost track of it when Lee swore. I'll get it. And revenge. Definitely getting revenge."

"After the game. We don't want to give them anymore penalties."

Harry pouted. "… Fine."

She sped off and away, and Alicia looked up at her with a curious face. Harry nodded her head, confirming with the Chaser that their Keeper was alright. More scores were made as the match dragged on and Harry searched for the Snitch and until—finally—!

Harry sped off, urging her Firebolt at its maximum speed as she chased the Snitch into the clouds above, not caring if Draco had noticed her and was following her, her Firebolt outshide his old broom any day. High up into the clouds, she raced, shivering slightly from the sudden shift in temperature. Her fingers outstretched as she reached for the speeding golden ball—

She grasped it.

As she flew back to the field, she held up her arm and Lee shouted, "Harry Potter's caught the Snitch! Gryffindor wins!"

Harry soared above the crowd, as the crowd shrieked with joy and she flew to the ground in a gentle slope. Dismounting her broom she held up her caught Snitch proudly, a warm feeling blooming in her chest. Then Wood was speeding towards her, half—blinded by tears; he seized Harry around the neck and sobbed unrestrainedly into her shoulder. Harry felt two large thumps as Fred and George collided into her, knocking the trio to the ground into a makeshift dog pile and then Angelina's, Alicia's and Katie's voices were chanting, "We've won the Cup! We've won the Cup!" Tangled together in a many—armed hug, the Gryffindor team piled onto the ground, yelling hoarsely.

Wave upon wave of scarlet supporters were pouring over the barriers onto the field. Hands were raining down on their backs and Harry was starting to feel a little suffocated, but then she and the rest of the team were lifted up into the air, as the crowd threw them up and up into the air and she saw Hagrid cheering, and Percy jumping up and down (dignity be damned!) and McGonagall was sobbing even harder than Oliver and her friends were beaming so proudly at her and Padfoot looked even prouder and—

And, yeah, it wasn't the first time she won the Cup.

But… But it was the first time she won the Cup with frie—with—with friends.

If only there was a Dementor nearby, Harry thought as a sobbing Oliver lifted the Cup into the air, because at this moment, _I feel like I could produce the world's best Patronus._

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

The exams were long and tireless and by the time Harry was finished with them, she was beside herself with pent up energy from sitting still for so long. And she wasn't the only one; she managed to rope Neville, Ron and Hermione into heading outside for some fresh air, after, of course, they visited Hagrid (Harry really wanted to visit at least one of her pets, and she needed to ask Hagrid about Grimvels).

Into Hagrid's hut, they filed in, as Hagrid poured some tea.

"Oh, Ron… 'ere… I foun' this fer yeh…" Hagrid handed Ron a squealing rat—Scabbers—and Ron glared at Scabbers.

"There you are, you stubborn thing. I don't know why you keep running away…" Ron trailed off, sighing and holding on tightly to his rat.

"How were they exams?" Hagrid asked.

"Dreadful!" Neville exclaimed. The rest of the students nodded their heads in agreement, and one by one, each launched into a tale of their least favorite exam.

"I swear Snape just seriously hates me," Harry exclaimed, finishing her tale of Snape's horrible grading skills.

"Well," Hermione said reasonably, "I doubt it helps with how you acted when he tried to teach DADA."

"I regret nothing."

Ron snorted. "You never do."

"Well, it's getting late," Hagrid said, peering out the window. "Nearly dark. Yeh better start headin' back, now, alright?"

"Alright," the quartet chorused.

Harry gave a longing sigh, climbing out the window—doors were getting boring—and latching onto Buckbeak.

"I want to kidnap him," Harry sighed longingly, just as Hermione grabbed her by the ear and started hauling her away and up the hill. Harry gave a small whine.

"That hurts, 'Mione!"

"Climbing out of windows… no regard for safety… severe lack of self—preservation," Hermione muttered crossly. "Honestly. What am I going to do with you?"

Ron and Neville snickered at Harry's annoyed expression, and full out laughed with Hermione finally released their friend's ear and she cringed, rubbing it. "So mean!"

As they started up the hill, Ron gave an annoyed grunt, causing the rest of them to pause and turn back to him. "It's Scabbers—he won't—stay put—"

Ron was bent over, trying to keep Scabbers in his pocket, but the rat was going beserk; squeaking and squealing, twisting and flailing, trying to sink his teeth into Ron's hand.

"Scabbers, it's me, you idiot," Ron snapped. "Ouch! He bit me! Scabbers—No!"

Too late—the rat had slipped between Ron's clutching fingers, hit the ground and scampered away. Ron didn't hesitate and pelted off into the darkness.

"Idiot," Hermione sighed and the trio followed after him.

When the finally caught up to Ron, he was sprawled on the ground, but Scabbers was held tightly in his hands. Before either of them could make a sound or movement, there was a low growl.

"Padfoot?" Harry inquired, just as the Grimvel leapt and his jaws fastened around Ron's leg. Harry's eyes widened in disbelief as the dog proceeded to drag her fri—fr—friend away and then out of nowhere, something hard hit Harry on the back of her head.

Her wand snapped out and the end lit up with Lumos and she realized—

"The Whomping Willow," Tom observed, as Harry noted she could no longer see Ron or Padfoot.

__The Map said there was a secret entrance over the Willow…__

The tip of Harry's wand glowed a dark red and fire erupted from it, scorching the tree's branches. The tree's branches snapped away from the fire and Harry smirked.

"What was that about?" Hermione demanded.

"Grimvel's only attack whenever their owner is in danger… why would he attack Ron…?" Neville asked, his brow furrowed.

Harry shrugged. "Doesn't matter. We have to go help them, so let's go."

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

In the Shrieking Shack, the trio climbed up the stairs, Harry leading. They reached the last room at the top, where the door was left open. Slowly, carefully, Harry entered the room, her eyes settling on Ron, who was clutching his leg painfully.

"Ron, are you alright?" Hermione asked, rushing towards him.

"Where's the Grimvel?" Neville asked.

"Not a Grimvel…" Ron panted. "Harry—it's a trap—"

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"He's not a Grimvel… _he's an animagus_…"

Ron was staring over Harry's shoulder and Harry whirled around, finding herself face to face with none other than Sirius Black, her scarf still wrapped firmly around his neck. She stared at him, a mixture of annoyance and grudging respect bubbling in her. Annoyance she had been so easily fooled by him, and grudging respect he had so easily fooled her and lured her into a trap. It was that respect alone that stopped her from immediately sending out a Stupefy.

"Expallelliarmus!" he croaked at them, pointing Ron's wand at them.

Immediately, the trio lost their wands, and Sirius caught them.

"I thought you'd come and help your friend," he said hoarsely. His voice sounded as if he had lost the habit of using it. "Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you, not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful… it will make everything much easier…"

Harry flushed at the remark of her father, feeling a rising rush of anger. Her hands clenched tightly into fists and the only reason she did not outright attack the man who stole everything from her, was the sharp remark from Tom.

"You better use your head in this one, Harry. If you were able to out—wit me, you better do the same for your other enemies," Tom snapped.

"I will not allow you to hurt them," Harry said lowly, positioning herself between the threat and her fr—friends.

She held out her hand with a silent accio, and her wand flew back into her hand.

"How dare you," Harry said softly, "how dare you take away my family, how dare you ruin my childhood. I will kill you. Slowly. Painfully. And I will have my revenge."

"Listen to me, Harry, you need to know the whole story," Sirius rasped. "I swear… I swear to you… if I could undo it… I would…"

The sincerity in his voice, was enough to give Harry slight pause, but her rage just kept building and building. It wasn't just the rage at him—it was at everything that had happened to her because of him. Every little fuck up in her life, happened because he stole away the two more precious people in Harry's life—stole it all away in a single, heartless night. She was seeing red and her hand shook as she gripped her wand, but she tried very, very hard not to snap. She wanted it to be long, his suffering. She wanted it to last for as long as she had suffered.

She wanted that, very, very dearly.

So she kept her rage in check, kept her face perfectly blank and her voice perfectly even, but she knew—she knew that if so much as one little thing was taken from her—one more poke or prod—she would snap.

Muffled footsteps were echoing up through the floor—someone was moving downstairs.

"We're up here!" Hermione shrieked. "We're up here—_Sirius Black_—Quick!"

Sirius made a startled movement, but the door to the room burst open in a shower of red sparks and Harry wheeled around and found Lupin hurtling into the room, his face bloodless, his wand raised and ready.

"_Expelliarmus_!"

And Harry's wand flew out of her hand and she was left, stunned, speechless, and frozen.

Her heart constricted and she felt a bitter stone drop in the pit of her stomach as she stared at Lupin with wide, wide eyes.

"I trusted you," Harry whispered, taking a step back as her mind went blank. Lupin's eyes shone with an emotion Harry couldn't quite place for the moment and she watched as Lupin caught Harry's wand.

"Where is he, Sirius?" Lupin asked in a quiet voice.

"You were the one who told me to—to—" Harry shook her head, unable to process what was happening. She trusted him. It was because of him that she trusted—her eyes wandered over to her allies. Was it wrong, then? Was she right all along? That had to be the case. Of course it was the case. She knew… she knew good girls never won. And she had fooled herself into thinking that she could play the good girl—but she was so very, very wrong and now Harry Potter was going to pay the price.

Moratorium wanted to take over at this point. Wanted to put an end to Harry's suffering, but Harry denied him. She wanted this to finish. She needed it to finish, because she needed to confirm her resolve in never trusting—never opening—never allowing—never permitting—

She needed her resolve into why she had Moratorium in the first place.

So she stood, perfectly still, her mind perfectly blank, as just Harry Potter.

"Something's not right," Tom observed, his dark eyes flickering between Lupin and Sirius. "What does he mean by he? Found who?"

Sirius's face was just as blank as her's. For a few seconds, he didn't move at all. Then, very slowly, he raised his empty hand and pointed at Ron. Confusion took hold of numbness inside of Harry and her brow furrowed as she stared at Ron.

"But then…" Lupin trailed off. "… why hasn't he shown himself before now…? Unless… unless he was the one… unless you switched… without telling me…?"

Lupin's eyes were wide as Sirius nodded his head. Then Harry watched, her eyes wide with disbelief as Lupin then walked to Sirius's side and hugged him like a dear brother.

"I don't believe it!" Hermione shrieked.

"You…" Harry trailed off, revulsion churning in her stomach. "I don't fucking believe it!"

"At least you're not in shock anymore," Tom said sardonically.

"I trusted you! You and him! Him and you! It was you who encouraged me to—to—that they were worth it—you—you were nice and all this time you've been leading me on?"

"You're wrong," Lupin said quickly. "I haven't lied to you. I meant what I said earlier, and we weren't friends before—we are now, but…"

"Liar!" Hermione snapped. "I trusted you, too! I've been covering you for ages—Harry don't trust him—he's a werewolf!"

"I know," Harry said, while Ron and Neville grew pale. "I don't give a shite about that. Just being a werewolf doesn't make him untrustworthy, Hermione. I thought you of all people would understand that."

Hermione flushed, but was still fixated with a loathing glare on Lupin.

"And how did you…?"

"The boggart and your illness," Hermione said quietly. "I saw that Harry seemed… she seemed fond of you and I was worried you would… you would take advantage of her. Harry's my friend and I know she has trouble, sometimes, connecting with others. Don't give me that look, Harry… I wanted to make sure you were alright. I made a misjudgment of character by trusting you with her."

Harry's eyes were wide and she stared at Hermione with no lack of shock. "You… You were… worried about…?"

"Of course I was," Hermione snapped. "I'm not a bloody idiot, Harry! I know when I'm being kept at arm's distance and I'm glad that I'm not being so pushed away now, but…!"

"I never said you were an idiot, Hermione. I'm just not good at…"

"I know. I don't know why… but I know," Hermione said softly.

"Please, listen to me," Lupin pleaded, handing each wand back to the owner. "That rat—that rat that you hold, Ron… that's not who you think it is. You see, part of being a werewolf, you get some enhanced features—sight—strength—smell—and when I first smelled you, Ron, I thought I was insane. It was so faint, but I could still smell him—the very same scent I had spent the majority of my life in Hogwarts with. It's impossible to forget a friend's—or what I thought before—scent. When I came down to Hagrid, as he said he had found your rat and I wanted to get a closer look at him, and Hagrid said you four had already left with the rat…"

Lupin took a deep breath and let out a small sigh. "That rat… is not a rat, Ron. He's a wizard."

"An Animagus," said Sirius, "by the name of Peter Pettigrew."

Harry's eyes widened and she whirled around to the squealing rat.

"But… you killed him…?" Harry asked faintly.

"I meant to," Sirius growled, baring his teeth, "but little Peter got the better of me… not this time, though!"

"Sirius, no!" Lupin exclaimed, holding Sirius back as he tried to move towards Ron and Scabbers(Peter?). "Wait! You can't just do it like that—they need to understand—we've got to explain—"

"We can explain afterwards," Sirius snarled.

"They've—got—a—right—to—know—everything" Lupin panted, still trying to restrain Sirius, who was apparently rather strong, despite his state. "Ron's had him as a pet for years, and there are parts even I don't understand and Harry… you owe Harry the truth, Sirius!"

Sirius stopped struggling, his hollowed eyes still on Scabbers, but for a moment, they flickered to Harry.

"All right, then," Sirius allowed. "Tell them whatever you like, but make it quick…"

"You're nutters, both of you," Neville said, positioning himself between them and Ron.

"There were witnesses who saw Pettigrew die," Hermione said faintly. "A whole street full of them…"

"They didn't see what they thought they saw!" Sirius snapped.

"Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter," Lupin said, nodding. "I believed it myself—until tonight. My nose doesn't lie."

"But Professor Lupin… Scabbers can't be Pettigrew… it can't be true…" Hermione said quietly.

"Why not?" Lupin asked calmly.

"Because… because people would know if Peter Pettigrew had been an Animagus. We did Animagi in class with Professor McGonagall. And I looked them up when I did my homework—the Ministry of Magic keeps tabs on witches and wizards and when I looked them up, there had only been seven Animagi in this century—"

"Those are only the ones that register. I bet Sirius Black wasn't on that list," Harry said quietly.

Hermione shook her head.

"We… We were all unregistered," Lupin said quietly, glancing at Sirius. "We based our Marauder's names off of our Animagi forms. I was Moony—although I wasn't an Animagi, I was a werewolf, Sirius was Padfoot, for his dog form, James was Prongs, for his stag, and Peter was Wormtail, for being a rat.

"Wait… you're the…" Harry trailed off and she nodded her head. "Okay… Okay."

There was a loud creak behind him. The bedroom door had opened of its own accord and all six stared at it. Lupin strode toward it and looked out into the landing.

"No one there…"

"This place really is haunted," Neville whispered.

"It's not," said Lupin, still looking at the door with a curious expression. "The Shrieking Shack was never haunted… the screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me. That's where all of this starts—with my becoming a werewolf. None of this would have happened if I hadn't been bitten… if I hadn't…"

He looked suddenly very tired.

"I was a very small boy when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days, there were no cures. The potion Snape makes for me is a very recent discovery, it makes me safe, you see. As long as I take it in the week preceding to the full moon, I keep my human mind when I transform. I am able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf and wait for the moon to wane again. Before the potion, however, I became a fully—fledged monster once a month. It seemed impossible I would be able to come to Hogwarts—no one would want their children exposed to me. But then Dumbledore became the headmaster and he was very sympathetic. He said as long as we took precautions, there was no reason I shouldn't come to school…"

Lupin gave a long sigh. "This house… the tunnel leads back to the school and once a month, I was smuggled out of the castle, into this place, to transform. The Whomping Willow was place at the tunnel mouth to stop anyone from coming across me while I was dangerous. My transformations in those days were—were terrible. It is very painful to turn into a werewolf. I was separated from humans to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead. The villagers heard the noise and screaming and thought they were hearing ghosts… Dumbledore encouraged the rumor… even now with the house being silent for years… the villagers refuse to approach it… but still, I was happy. Why? Because I had three genuine friends.

"Now, my friends could hardly fail to notice that I disappeared once a month and came back with scratches and scars. I made up all sorts of stories because I was terrified they would abandon me the moment they found out who I was… but of course, like you, Harry, Hermione, they worked out the truth. And they didn't desert me at all. Instead they did something that would make my transformation not only bearable, but the best times of my life. They became Animagi. It took the better part of three years—but they did it."

"How did that help you?" Hermione asked, puzzled.

"They couldn't keep me company as humans, so they kept company as animals. A werewolf is only a danger to people. Under their influence, I became less dangerous. My body was still wolfish, but my mind seemed to become less so while I was with them."

"Hurry up," Sirius hissed.

"I'm getting there, old friend… I'm getting there… There were close calls—calls that still leave me haunted by the possibility of giving this curse to anyone else. For a long time, I struggled with the thought of telling Dumbledore about Sirius's Animagus form, but in the end, I decided against it. I suppose in the end, Snape was right about me all along…"

"Snape?" Black said harshly. "What's Snivellus got to do with any of this?"

"He teaches here. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Defense Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons… you see, Sirius here played a trick on him that nearly killed him, a trick which involved me—"

"Probably served him right," Harry snorted while Sirius sneered, "It served him right."

The two exchanged glances and Harry looked away stubbornly.

"So that's why he doesn't like you?" Ron asked. "Because of a trick?"

"Enough with the back stories," Harry said swiftly, discomforted she had agreed on something with Sirius. "I'm tired of all of this. Explain. Now. How do you know Scabbers is really Pettigrew? You've been in Azkaban this entire time.

"That is a fair question," Lupin remarked, frowning slightly. "How did you find out where he was?"

Sirius pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his robes and held out to show the others—it was the Daily Prophet, and there, on Ron's shoulder, was Scabbers.

"How did you get this…?"

"Fudge. When he came to inspect Azkaban, he gave me his paper. There was Peter, on the front page… on this boy's shoulder… I knew him at once… how many times have I seen him transform? Lookat his paw…"

"My God. His front paw…"

"He's got a toe missing," Harry said blankly. "What of it?"

"Of course… So simple… so brilliant… he cut it off himself."

"Just before he transformed. When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I'd betrayed them. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back and sped into the sewer with the other rats…"

"The biggest bit of Peter they found was his finger," Harry remarked, realization crossing over her features and once again, she found renewed anger bubbling inside of her. She turned to face Ron.

"Look, Scabbers probably had a fight with another rat or something! He's been in my family for ages, right—"

"Twelve years, in fact. Far past the normal rat's lifespan."

"We—we've just taken good care of him."

"Not looking too good for the moment, though, is he? He knew Sirius was coming for him."

"Why… why would he be so worried…? The Auroras would protect him if…" Harry trailed off and she gave a strangled sound. "No. That's what you meant? Switching? _Switching Secret-Keepers_?"

"Such a smart girl," Sirius said softly.

Harry gave another choked sound and she felt her anger burst inside of her. _My Godfather—he didn't—he was trying to protect me—he came for me—Hagrid didn't give me to him—and he's been suffering just like I have—my only family—my—my—_

Lupin hadn't betrayed Harry, after all, either.

Her eyes trained on Scabbers and her face twisted into a snarl. "Give me the rat, Ronald."

"Don't tell me you believe—"

Her wand flashed out and she summoned the squealing rat into her hands. Her hands shook and she squeezed the real one who stole everything from her. Peter squealed in pain.

"Reveal him to us. I don't know a spell to force an Animagi to turn back into human," Harry said tersely, holding the rat out to Lupin.

Lupin gave a slow nod and a flash of blue—white light erupted from his wand just as he dropped Peter. Peter froze in midair and there, and when he hit the floor—

"Well, hello, Peter," said Lupin pleasantly. "Long time, no see."

But Harry did not allow for pleasantries. She had tried to keep a cool head. She had tried to keep calm, but the revelation that she had yet another chance at happiness even after her parents were taken from her—yet again stolen away from her, by the same fucking man… She… Was… Furious.

Blinded by rage, she flew at Peter, as he struggled to stand up. She drove her fist straight into his face, and he fell back to the floor, blood pooling out of his nose and she raised her wand to his legs and black light flew from the tip of her wand and Peter screamed in agony as the bones in his legs were completely shattered.

"Harry!"

Harry wasn't sure who reprimanded her, only that it was someone close enough to her that she did not proceed to hurt Peter anymore. At the very least, he would not be escaping.

"Good girl," Sirius croaked approvingly.

Harry felt her rage bubble and boil inside of her, and Peter's whimpers did nothing to soothe her. She wanted to destroy every last bit of him.

"Why…" Harry croaked, her voice shaking with tight anger, "why did this never come into light? Why was this not revealed at your trial?"

"I never received one," Sirius said quietly.

Her anger spiked and the shack gave a groan as the wood around Harry splintered and flew away from her from her unchecked magic. Her stomach churned and she felt sick with loathing in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't just Peter's fault, then. It was the Ministry's fault, as well. Because of them, she was—because of them, Moratorium had to be born.

She wanted to kill them.

Desperately.

Her fingers dug into the palm of her hands, her nails digging in hard enough that the skin was split and blood dripped out. She was doing her best to even her breathing.

As she tried to calm herself, she could hear Moratorium whisper of what to do next.

"Dobby," Harry called out suddenly, her voice eerily calm.

Dobby appeared. "Y—"

"Bring Fudge and Amelia Bones to Hogwarts, tell them and Dumbledore it concerns Sirius Black and that it's an emergency."

"Harry what are you—"

"Ron, can you walk?" Harry asked, ignoring Hermione for the moment.

"Not—Not well," Ron admitted.

"Sorry," Sirius apologized.

"Neville, or Hermione, please use_ Wingardium Leviosa_ on Ron, so we can take him back to the castle," Harry instructed, lifting her own wand on a whimpering Peter—whose nose still bled—and using the aforementioned spell. "Sirius, please return to your animal form, that way they do not recognize you. Professor Lupin, have you taken your potion?"

"Oh. No—"

"Please stay here."

As Harry walked away—Sirius right at her side and a whimpering Peter high up in the air above them—the others followed, the exception being Lupin.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Just as Harry entered the school, she was immediately greeted by Fudge, Amelia, Shacklebolt, Dumbledore and McGonagall.

"Miss Potter! There you are, what's—"

The moment Harry saw them—saw Them—her control snapped and she threw Peter down to the ground, cracking his skull into the marble floor and rendering him unconscious, before she sprinted forward and dug her fist straight into Fudge's face.

"_YOU SELFISH FUCKING IDIOT_!" Harry shrieked, having every intention of beating him to a pulp, but at Sirius's bark, she restrained herself.

"What is the meaning of this, Potter?" Amelia demanded.

"Shut up,_ you filthy whore_!" Harry snarled, shaking with fury.

"Harry!" Dumbledore admonished.

"_You_…!" Harry whirled on him, itching to kick his arse, as well. Hermione must have sensed this because she said Harry's name sharply, causing Harry to retain focus.

She pointed at unconscious Peter. "Can someone who's not a _bloody idiot_ tell me who the _bloody hell_ he is?"

"Peter? _Peter Pettigrew_?" McGonagall gasped.

Immediately, all eyes rested on him. Fudge—who was on the floor, clutching his nose—had his eyes widen in surprise, too.

"Now can someone please tell me," Harry asked, her voice thin, "what my godfather was accused of?"

"Sirius Black—" Amelia began, but Harry shot her a venomous look.

"It was rhetorical, you _idiot_," Harry snapped. "_This_, however, isn't. Someone tell me the _exact_ date my godfather received his trial and sentence to that _hell_?"

"Sirius Black was sentenced—"

"His trial, first."

Silence met her response.

"… So we can't name the date, I fail to see what you're so angry about," Amelia said flatly.

Harry was very close to attacking the older woman, the only thing that stopped her was when Neville and Hermione placed a hand on her shoulders, gripping them tightly. Harry took a deep breath.

"Three days," Harry said shortly.

"Three days until what?" Shacklebolt asked skeptically, he had had his wand out and ready the moment she had punched the blundering fool, but made no move to stop her.

"You all have exactly three days to set up a trial—a _legitimate_ trial—for Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. I want Pensieves, Veritaserum, an _objective_ judge. Three days, or else," Harry warned.

"Harry, please, just explain…" Dumbledore pleaded.

"Three bloody days, or else."

"Or else what?" Fudge demanded.

"I go straight to Rita Skeeter and I tell her all about how sweet Harry Potter was raised in an atrocious home because her Godfather was falsely accused, something of which would have been found it if he was given a trial in the first place, and how despite all the time the _fucking_ _fools_ in the government had to give him a legitimate trial, none of them got around to it, and how even though Harry Potter asked _ever so nicely_ for a trial for her beloved Godfather, they _still_ chose to ignore her," Harry spat.

At her threat, the majority of the faces in the room paled.

"Falsely accused?" Amelia asked faintly.

Harry whirled around on her, jerking out of her friends' hands and snarling, "Falsely accused, _you fat—ass shite_. Something of which you would have known _IF YOU HAD DONE YOUR JOB_!"

At her roar, her magic flared again and the portraits and windows shook fiercely.

"Harry," Hermione said gently.

Harry wasn't listening; she was shaking with rage and teetering on breaking down and just firing off _Crucios_ at everyone around her. "This… This is why…! _Every one of them I meet_! All incompetent moronic fools! Too scared and worried for your own selfish being—to save face that you would hurt someone else! Too jealous, too petty, too, too…! _You stupid adults_!"

Harry swallowed. "Three days. You have three days."

She turned on her heel and stormed away. And after a moment of pausing, Sirius followed behind her.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

She slipped into the Chambers, Sirius right behind her, eyeing the area curiously. She went down the long tunnels before going into the bedroom, climbing into the bed, grabbing a pillow, curling up and letting out a dry sob.

All this time. All this time I could have been happy, but I wasn't because of more stupid adults. Why? Why did they do this? Who did I piss off so much the moment I was born, that I was given this stupid life?

Sirius crawled up onto the bed, giving a soft whine. Harry looked up, feeling hesitant and unsure.

"I'm sorry," Harry said quietly. "I… I lost my temper. Severely. Just… Just seeing them again… and knowing that they all knew and still did nothing about it… it… it infuriated me. I'm sorry if I scared or worried you."

Sirius shook his head, inching closer.

"I'm not very good at this sort of thing," Harry told him. "I'm not used to having to be… conscious of others. I'm sure you were angry, too."

Sirius seemed to shrug, moving a bit closer in the process.

"He's trying to comfort you," Tom said.

__How?__

"He's already recognized you feel more comfortable with animals, than you do with humans. That's why he's remaining in his form," Tom replied, slowly floating away. "I'll head back to my diary."

Unsure of what else to do, Harry moved a bit closer to Sirius. Hesitantly, she tried to picture him as just a dog and what she would do if he were Buckbeak or Basileus. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his fur and sniffled. Harry did not cry a single tear, as that was something she had refused to do a long time ago. But she did cling to her Godfather, and she did shake, and somehow, just somehow, she felt a little bit better.

_Is this what a family is supposed to be like?_

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Harry chose to remain in the Chambers, with Sirius, until the day of the trial. Dobby acted as her messenger, and she allowed no one, save her friends, in the Chamber. Dobby teleported them to her, sometime the next morning—along with lunch. Hermione had quickly grabbed onto Harry, holding her tightly, before Ginny pulled her away and hugged her, then so did Luna, followed by Neville, then the twins, and Draco just patted her on the head.

"I'm sorry I lost my temper yesterday," Harry apologized.

"It was understandable," Neville assured her.

"I would have been just as furious," Hermione added.

"We wouldn't have been so nice, though," Fred said, to which Harry had to smile at.

Sirius padded in the room, yawning and taking a seat at Harry's feat. Harry's smile widened a bit more at seeing him.

"We explained everything that we know after you left," Neville said.

Draco gave a small nod. "They've set up the trial, too. I take it you'll bring Black?"

Harry nodded.

Hermione pulled out a small bag and held it out to Harry. Harry took it, examining its contents. "Homework?"

"I assumed you wouldn't really be up for… well, really anyone else and that you would be skipping classes until the trial," Hermione explained. "McGonagall and Lupin thought the same, so we brought you what you would miss."

"Tell them I said thank you, please," Harry said quietly.

"Wood wants to know if you're going to practice tomorrow…" George added.

"I will," Harry said quickly.

Her friends exchanged glances.

"Really?" Ginny asked incredulously.

"I don't want Oliver getting on my case when I do come back," Harry defended, blushing.

There was a contemplative silence.

"Yeah…"

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

It was a long day, the day of the trial. Harry was allowed out of school to vouch for her Godfather and accuse Peter (she would have left school, even without Dumbledore's permission). The trial was a huge deal and Harry had already sent a letter to Lockhart, requesting for him to deal with the press on their behalf. Lockhart—all too willingly—obliged and Harry written out the all the facts he needed to know, so that way when the doors opened and the cameras and reports came a blazing, Harry and Sirius didn't need to respond or deal with that drama, leaving it up to the golden idiot.

After the trial, Sirius and Harry sat quietly in the courthouse, conversing quietly to each other.

Sirius was smiling brightly at Harry. "Thank you."

Harry shrugged, blushing. "I just… It was the right thing to do."

"I know. Thank you. I, uh… Listen… I, uh, I know you mentioned you didn't like who you were living with and if you ever… if you want, I mean, when this is all over… I have a flat in London… you can live with me," Sirius offered, giving an almost shy smile.

Harry's eyes widened and she blurted out, "Yes! Please!"

Sirius beamed. "Excellent!"

It was then that Dumbledore entered the conversation, "Excuse me…?"

The duo looked up at Dumbledore, and while Sirius was still beaming, Harry's face went carefully blank.

"A word with young Harry, if you don't mind, Sirius…"

"Of course, of course!"

"Afterwards, I would like a word with you…"

Sirius nodded his head, giving a wink at Harry, before leaving.

Dumbledore sat down across from Harry. "Harry, I don't quite know what to say."

Harry did not reply.

"I am sorry, very sorry, Sirius had to go through that, but you have to understand, all the evidence pointed towards him."

"All the shallow evidence," Harry sneered. "A trial. You, who is held so highly as such an honorable man, could not give the time of day for someone who was wrongfully accused."

Dumbledore's eyes were hollow and reflected great remorse and he—in an all too sad voice—said, "I know. I was blinded by my anger and I could not see reason. It is one of the greatest regrets I shall carry for the rest of my life."

Harry stubbornly looked away, feeling her anger soften slightly at Dumbledore's sincere sorrow. "Good."

Dumbledore nodded his head, accepting Harry's anger. "I will not ask for your forgiveness, as I feel I do not deserve it, but I want you to know that I am sorry."

Harry looked back at Dumbledore, biting on her bottom lip. "… I do not know if I can forgive you, Professor. I… I am, too, sorry about my… temper. It was very irrational and immature of me to do so, and I should have handled myself better. I am sorry."

"No need to apologize, Harry, you were very much caught up in the moment," Dumbledore said gently.

"That's just it," Harry said quietly. "I don't get caught up in the moment."

"Yes, well, if it makes you feel any better, Miss Bones doesn't blame you in the slightest," Dumbledore said lightly. "She's actually quite furious with herself, her predecessor was the one in charge of Sirius's trail, and the fact that she did not go back and examine his records… infuriates her."

"How's Fudge's nose?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"It was broken," Dumbledore chuckled. "And he's quite terrified of you now."

Harry felt her lips twitch in amusement. "I… I will apologize to Miss Bones. I do feel like I stepped out of line with her, at the very least."

"I think you will find that Miss Bones disagrees with you on that one," Dumbledore said. "I believe she mentioned that she would have done the exact same thing, had she been in your place, only she would have gotten violent with everyone."

Harry actually chuckled at that.

"Good day, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "I wish you the best endeavors."

"… Good day, Professor," Harry returned.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

The rest of the school year went by without much notice. Much to Harry's disappointment (severe disappointment), she wasn't allowed to live with Sirius for a while longer. Due to Sirius's horrendously long stay in Azkaban, there was actually a law on what was required afterwards. Apparently, Sirius wasn't the first one to have been falsely accused of something. He had to wait exactly one year before he was permitted to even work—granted the Ministry would pay for anything he needed during that year—and during that year, he also had to undergo multiple physical and psyche therapy sessions (much to his horror). All in all, Harry would be stuck with the Dursleys for one more summer.

Which sucked arse, but was better than being stuck with them until she was seventeen. On the bright side, that didn't mean Sirius couldn't visit her—well, he wasn't allowed in the Muggle Word, so actual visits during the summer were going to be non—existent—and Dumbledore was all too happy to allow Sirius and Harry time together every weekend (along with Lupin!) for the rest of the school year. Harry could remember the absolute joy she felt when Dumbledore allowed that—she was actually happy enough that she hugged him. Granted, it was a short—very short hug—and she flushed afterwards, but it was still a hug. Something she was still unused to, yet strangely starting to get addicted to. It was all Hermione's fault—it was Hermione who consistently hugged Harry and Harry found herself growing more and more fond of the action. It was strange and awkward… but Harry still very much liked it.

It was, however, during one of those visits with Sirius, that Harry made a very… very important decision.

"And then—and then—James start howling in pain, doubled over, but he's laughing at the same time, too," Sirius laughed, finishing another grand tale of the Marauders. "Oh, oh… it was just something. As soon as I get a Pensieve, I'll show you."

Harry was giggling, covering her mouth to the best of her ability to retain her laughter.

"Please, that was nothing to the time James, your father, blew up Dumbledore's stash of lemon drops at the Order," Lupin dismissed, but he was still smiling.

"Now that's a good tale," Sirius said appreciatively.

"Tell me?" Harry begged.

Sirius grinned, lapping up his goddaughter's undivided attention. "Always. So we're at an Order meeting—"

"What Order?" Harry inquired. Tom glanced up from his reading—as promised, Harry enchanted the book so it could project in a manner similar to Tom's predicament. However, because there was no consciousness attached to the book, it just ended up being a projection of the book, a projection that Tom could actually read. He seemed to be enjoying it very much.

Sirius and Lupin exchanged glances.

"The Order of the Phoenix," Sirius said, still grinning. "It was an Order established by Dumbledore to fight off Voldewhore."

Tom gave an automatic snort of disdain at the name—the moment Harry had said the name, Sirius refused to stop using it—and automatically gave Harry an annoyed look. She ignored him for the moment.

"What? Who's in it?"

"Doesn't matter for the moment," Lupin said quickly.

"It was an Order for only the best and the brightest—only for those Dumbledore completely trusted," Sirius went on, however Harry wasn't listening anymore.

"Sounds like Death Eaters," Tom commented idly. "Well, it sounds like my original intentions of Death Eaters."

__... Do all powerful witches and wizards have their own… group?__

"It would appear that way, yes. Merlin's Circle, Sun and Moon, Eye of the Magi, Order of the Phoenix, Death Eaters…"

Sirius and Tom were cut off, when the door to the DADA room burst open and Draco strode in, smirking confidently. "Harry!"

"Draco," Harry returned.

"If you don't mind, Sirius…" Draco trailed off.

"I'll bring back more food," Harry promised.

Sirius waved his hand. "See you soon, then, little Pronglet."

Harry flushed at the name. "Don't call me that!"

"Until I see your Animagus form, or your Patronus form, I have little choice…"

Rolling her eyes, Harry turned away and followed after Draco.

* * *

**(◡‿◡✿)**

* * *

Hermione, Ron, Draco, Neville and Harry all stood at a dead—end hallway.

"… Okay. Seriously. What is it?" Harry asked, a little annoyed at having her time with Sirius interrupted.

Draco smirked before gesturing to the wall—which then held a door. As the door opened, it revealed a very big and very professional training room. Harry gaped before eyeing it appreciatively.

"What is this place?" Harry asked, glancing around.

"The Room of Requirement," Draco said, preening. "Flint told me about it just this morning, when I was telling him I needed some place to train without interruption. Said the room was designed to become whatever the person needed the most—and no one will be able to interrupt us in here."

"Very good, Draco," Harry said appreciatively, awarding the boy with a smile.

"Well done," Hermione agreed.

While her friends all glanced around the room, each of them finding new and useful things, and each getting more and more excited for the lessons to begin (they would have to begin next year; there was too little time left in this year and all that time was taken up with exams), Harry thought carefully back to what was discussed previously.

She cleared her throat, drawing everyone's attention to her. She smiled.

"Everyone, I would like to start an Order, and I want you in it."

* * *

**(****‿⊙✿****)**

* * *

_Holy shit. This chapter was 95 pages long. Word count: 36,139_

_Da-amn! _

_Anyway, yes. This chapter was actually a Harry-actually-developed-as-a-person chapter. Probably the only chapter that will really focus in on that. The reason Moratorium kind of took a back seat was because Moratorium's plans have a very much a **long-term **effect. Or well, plans that will take **time **to fruit. There will come a year, not next year, but probably the one after that, where it's mostly Moratorium and him using his... power._

_To clarify:_

_1.) Yes, Harry came from an abusive home. I found it a little hard to believe that people who openly loathed Harry in canon to such a point of locking him in a cupboard on a regular basis, wouldn't take that abuse to a physical level. Or maybe I'm just cynical._

_2.) Yes. Again, I made Tom way more rational, and yes, I have plans for him. And... yes. He's still trying to manipulate Harry and gain Harry's trust, hence why **he **shared a little, as well._

_3.) Blood-wards be damned. I doubt Dumbledore would try and keep Harry at that home with Sirius perfectly capable of raising her and defending her, especially when she would fight him tooth and nail on the subject. She **and **Sirius._

_4.) Yep. Moratorium was born in the first place as a defense mechanism for Harry. Whether or not he's because of a certain soul-fragment or is purely just another personality, remains to be seen. However, his first priority is Harry's well-being, it's what he was created to do._

_5.) Hectic updates, but the next chapter is already roughly 83 pages long and I haven't even reached the Yule Ball. Yep..._

_Reviews are **love**!_


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